


Pink in the Night

by daoimean



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Glimmadora - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Micah Catra and Scorpia don't show up til chapters 6-7, Pining, Slow Burn, Useless Lesbians, but this IS a Glimmadora fic so y'know, can't believe Catra/Therapy isn't a ship tag smh, there's a bit of Catradora and Scorptra in later chapters, wow this went on a bit of a tangent for what was supposed to be a fluffy one-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daoimean/pseuds/daoimean
Summary: Fellas, is it gay to be madly in love with your gal pal?As war rages and internal demons fester, Glimmer struggles to come to terms with her feelings.





	1. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Come on, let's sleep in my bed  
>  Can I just be in my head with you?_

Sleep isn't coming easily tonight, and Glimmer isn't the only one who thinks so. 

She knows who it is as soon as the door creaks open; pretends to be asleep and undisturbed by the approach of tentative footsteps, not reacting even as the bed dips to the extra weight next to her. 

It's become kind of an unspoken rule, one of many that's formed between them in the time they've fought together, been together (not in  _ that  _ way—), that Adora is welcome here whenever she likes. It's also an unspoken rule that they don't really talk about it, don't really address the underlying layers of these impromptu sleepovers, which she isn't sure is for the sake of Adora's dignity or her own. 

What she does know, though there's some vague anxiety holding her back from fully admitting it, even to herself, perhaps of coming off selfish, or maybe just a little weird— is that she's actually come to miss Adora on the nights she's not around, and sleep tends to come a little easier when she is. 

Not tonight though, apparently. 

A sleepless eternity drags, and then some. She doesn't need to look at Adora to know she isn't having much luck either.

"Hey," she murmurs eventually, shuffling round to face her. She’s groggy, squinting in the lack of light, and doesn't quite manage a smile until Adora reaches across the minuscule space between them to poke her nose, her own lips curling into a mischievous little grin as Glimmer recoils, pulling a face before breaking into giggles herself.

"Hey," she whispers, probably reminiscent of late nights in the Fright Zone's dorms, "shouldn't you be asleep?" 

"Probably," says Glimmer, quirking a brow at Adora's hypocrisy, "shouldn't  _ you? _ " 

This is usually to be the point their sleepovers turn into, well, actual sleepovers. The kind that involve chatting, laughing because everything is somehow funnier this time of night, deep discussions about everything and nothing, save for the actual serious topics that have come to dominate the daytime hours and catch up to them thereafter, because everything is somehow smarter this time of night too— and, still, not a whole lot of actual sleep, but at least the weight of the world feels a little lighter by morning. 

She wonders, sometimes, what it would be like to have Adora here every night, sleeping or no sleeping. Sure, their nights together wouldn’t really sleepovers anymore, but does that matter? It’s hard to tell what pushes the boundaries of her and Adora’s friendship when her only reference point is Bow, and it’s so...different with him. Sure, she  _ loves  _ Bow, of course she does, just…

Not like she loves Adora. 

There's a weariness about her tonight. It dulls her eyes even in the dim light, pulling at the edges of her smile until it falters, momentarily betraying what lies underneath. That smile returns, though, when Glimmer pokes her nose. "Yeah," she shrugs, "probably." 

Glimmer sits up, stretching her stiff limbs. Adora does the same, and Glimmer has to restrain herself from watching. "Come on." She holds out her hand. "Let's go on a midnight adventure." 

It's actually well past midnight, and staying within the safe confines of Castle Bright Moon at these spooky hours is one of the few stupid mom rules Glimmer's actually pretty happy to abide by, so it's not going to be much of an adventure either. But she teleports, Adora in tow, to various locations of the Castle's outdoor areas, balconies and courtyards and even the Moonstone Tower itself, until finally, on an unmanned parapet, she finds herself, surprise surprise, all out of teleports. 

"I...need a minute," she says to Adora, catching herself on a wall as her legs threaten to give way under her. She'll stay here until the world stops spinning.

Adora just playfully rolls her eyes, nodding towards the Moonstone Glimmer just teleported them away from. "You could have recharged over there, dumbface." 

"Yes," Glimmer groans, " _ thank you _ , dumber-face." 

Compared with the near-suffocating summer heat of Glimmer's room, the nighttime breeze up here provides some much needed relief. She watches as it tousles Adora's hair, lifting the strands that must have fallen out of her ponytail from hours of tossing and turning. The bags framing her eyes tell of countless sleepless or sleep-deprived nights; the slump of her shoulders, the lost, despondent look that resumes over her features when she thinks Glimmer isn't looking, tells of the kind of tiredness no amount of sleep is going to solve. 

Glimmer doesn't say anything. But she does approach her once the dizziness subsides, leaning her head on Adora's shoulder, placing her hand over Adora's where it grasps the wall, tight enough for the white of her tendons to strain through. Adora exhales, and the grip seems to slacken, as she rests her head on Glimmer's; it's among the few instances Glimmer's actually kind of glad for the height difference. 

"Sorry," she mutters, though she's probably no more sure what she's apologising for than Glimmer is, "I'm just... _ really _ tired." 

"I know. It's okay." Glimmer soothes. She runs her thumb over the back of Adora's hand, across the purple and blue bruises that bloom across her knuckles, hesitating, swallowing. She feels compelled to ask. "Are you...sure it's nothing else?" 

Adora is quiet for a while. She draws her hand from under Glimmer's, folding her arms and resting her chin on them, gazing dazedly over the expansive view of Bright Moon before her. The moons and the Moonstone are still the sole lights of the sky, the silvery gleam dancing across the clear waters below, illuminating the rolling hills and vast cliffs that circle the queendom like a protective wall, like the safe arms of a lover. It's all mundane to Glimmer, it's all she's ever known, but it must be a far cry from the view Adora is, or  _ was _ , used to. 

Her response, when it comes, isn't what she expects, but it also doesn't surprise her. 

"Is it bad I sometimes miss the Horde?" 

She says it very quietly, tentatively, like she's ashamed of the fact, afraid of being chastised for admitting it. After everything the Horde have done to Etheria, to the people of Bright Moon, to  _ her—  _ how  _ dare  _ she harbour any sentiment towards the enemy, right?

Glimmer isn't angry, though. She puts her arm around her to assure her of this before she verbally does so, gently squeezing her shoulder. "No, of course it isn’t bad. You grew up there, right? You had friends, you had Catra— it'd be weird if you didn't have  _ some  _ good memories." 

"Yeah. That's the thing." Adora sighs. "I don't regret leaving, obviously, I just... sometimes I wish I'd left on better terms, you know? The Horde raised me, these people were basically my  _ family _ , even Shadow Weaver had...her moments, sometimes, and I feel horrible  _ acknowledging  _ that after how she treated Catra. At the end of the day, I...I wouldn't be who I am now without them, I feel like I owe them more than just...upping and leaving. They deserve closure as much as I do. Probably  _ more _ , actually." 

"Adora." Glimmer's tone still isn't angry, but it is much more firm. "You don't  _ owe  _ the Horde  _ anything _ , okay? Not your old friends, not Catra, and  _ definitely  _ not Shadow Weaver. You were only a baby when the Horde took you in, it's not like you  _ asked  _ for any of this." 

"Hmm." Adora doesn't seem convinced. "I guess you're right." 

She knows, from piecing together what she's been told, the gist of Adora's upbringing, and she can use that to trace the roots of her turmoil. 

She knows, but that doesn't mean she understands. 

Glimmer hasn't been conditioned to fight from the moment she can stand. She hasn't had her entire reality ripped from beneath her feet, found out that everything she came to understand about the world is based on a lie; she hasn't had to turn against  _ everyone  _ who raised and were raised with her for the sake of her morality; and she isn’t now stumbling into the cusp of adulthood tasked not only with rebuilding herself from the ashes of her previous life, but also carrying the burden of Etheria's very fate on her shoulders. How can she even  _ begin  _ to understand what that's _like?_

"But then again," Adora adds, "I didn't choose to be She-Ra either." 

In a lot of ways, Glimmer feels like she's known Adora for years. 

In many others, it's like she doesn't know her at all. 

"I'm sorry," she responds, quietly, pathetically, for lack of anything else to say. 

"Don't be, it’s not your fault." 

But maybe this is okay. 

Maybe what they have now is fine.

Adora is Adora, Glimmer is Glimmer. They exist in separate spheres that sometimes overlap. They fight the Horde together by day and their own demons by night. Glimmer is here if Adora needs her as a silent comforting presence, or a distraction, and she's sure if the need arises, Adora will return the favour. Because that's what friends are for, right?

But then, as Adora turns to face her fully, leans in as Glimmer's arms slide around her in a full embrace, and they're so close Glimmer can feel Adora’s breathing, hear her heartbeat through her nightshirt until it seems to meld or sync with the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears— she finds herself face-to-face with those boundaries once more. 


	2. Winter Solstice: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Etheria have a Christmas equivalent and yes, I'm writing the Christmas chapter in August
> 
> Sorry for the slow update! A lot of stuff happened including some technical difficulties on my end (the device I was writing this on broke and my dumb ass didn't save it elsewhere), then season 3 came out and you all know what happened there

The first night, Glimmer was inconsolable. Consumed with a crushing, suffocating grief like nothing she's ever experienced, she clung to Adora like a lifeline, soaking her shirt with each breathless, shuddering sob. 

The second night, she declined Adora's company and cried alone in the dark. 

By the third, it was as if she'd run out of tears to shed.

Then things just kind of blurred together. 

Time passes weirdly these days. Winter crept up on Etheria like an ambush, and it feels like no sooner had she first felt the urge to wear a sweater did she wake up to find the Castle's surroundings blanketed in a thick layer of snow. 

If her calculations are right, it's been two months since Catra opened that portal. Two months since her mom sacrificed herself to save reality, two months since Glimmer's reality was turned upside down. It feels like it could have been yesterday. It feels like it could have been a whole lifetime ago.

For those who celebrate the Winter Solstice on this side of Etheria, Bright Moon's first snowfall marks the start of the festive season. Even into adolescence, when the magic started to wear off, the sight would still propel Glimmer's heart into a little leap of excitement, like she was a little kid all over again. Now, in the cusp of adulthood, her family dwindled even further, and last night's dream still weighing heavily on her chest, all she can think about are the preparations, the extra responsibilities, the empty seat at the celebratory dinner table where her mom should be, and she's filled with a dread that chills her to the bone. 

She's still in her pyjamas when she trudges into the kitchen, too drained to teleport herself there. Casta, as she expected, is making tea, humming some folksy song as she goes through the motions with an airy perkiness no one has  _ any _ business to before 10AM. But then Casta's always been a morning person. Her mom has too. She often wonders why she never inherited the trait from either side of her family. Did her dad value his lie-ins as much as she does? 

"Morning, Glimmer!" she greets merrily. "You're up early, dear! Would you like some tea?" 

"Tea would be great. Bright Moon breakfast," says Glimmer. She remembers she has to specify now that Casta's stocked up the tea cupboard— she'd been mortified when she first got here to find Bright Moon breakfast was the only option. 

Casta fetches the tea, her continued humming filling the ensuing silence. In the somber tension hanging like a dark cloud over Bright Moon, Casta's prevailing cheeriness had been like a tiny shred of normalcy. If it wasn't for a few weeks ago, when Glimmer followed the sound of a crash to her aunt hunched and quivering over a shattered mug, tears streaming freely down her face, she might have been able to kid herself that it was fully genuine. Now, it's honestly hard to tell, and it makes their interactions feel less like the light peeking through the grim winter's sky and more like the eye of the storm. 

"It snowed last night," Casta says after a while, as if Glimmer couldn't see it for herself. 

"I saw." 

"Are you looking forward to the Solstice?" 

Glimmer pulls herself up onto one of the stools, her elbows on the island, her chin in her hands. Her mom would always lecture her for sitting like that. She gazes down into the marble, blearily, until the squiggles almost seem to wriggle and writhe before her eyes. 

"Glimmer?" 

She hadn't realised she was crying until she saw one of her tears drip onto the counter; she hastily wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her bathrobe before Casta can see. 

"Yeah, I don't know if we should...do anything this year? It just...doesn't really feel like a time to celebrate." 

"Well, it's really up to you, sweetheart." The soft earnesty in Casta's voice doesn't do much to soften the reminder that this  _ is _ , indeed,  _ entirely _ Glimmer's decision. "But I think everyone could use a little festive joy right now, including you. Besides…" She sets the tea in front of her, and her hand reaches out to smooth back Glimmer's hair, her thumb wiping across the dried tear track. "I don't suppose  _ Adora _ has ever observed the Solstice before." 

Glimmer doesn't miss that knowing glint in her eye, and rolls her own eyes heavily in response. "Really, aunty?  _ Now _ ?" 

"I'm only saying, if we hang up some sprigs of mistletoe—" 

" _ Castaaa _ !" Glimmer almost wails, swatting at Casta's hand as she feels a small blush creeping up her cheeks. She hates that the thought is  _ almost  _ making her reconsider, even when it lacks the same warm butterflies it might have elicited before. There's butterflies, sure, but not the kind she came to enjoy. 

"Really, Glimmer, when  _ is  _ the last time you girls have been able to do something  _ fun _ for yourselves? Not to mention Bow and the others. Part of being a leader is knowing when to delegate, how much energy you can afford to expend before you burn yourself out." She's stroking Glimmer's hair as she talks, and Glimmer just lets her. Leader or not, she has to accept those shreds of maternal comfort where she can find them. "I'll tell you what, dear: if you choose to celebrate, just focus on that part— leave all the organising to me." 

"But you've already done so much," says Glimmer, gratitude and guilt swelling in some weird amalgamated lump in her throat, "what about Mystacor?" 

"Mortella is keeping an excellent handle on things," Casta assures her, referring to her prodigal former student who's standing in as Head Sorceress now that Casta's had to extend her stay in Bright Moon (and who Glimmer really does  _ not  _ trust, but that's a whole other matter), "I am sure the Guild can survive one Solstice without me." 

"Thank you." Glimmer's eyes drop back down to the counter. "I'll think about it." 

There's something she actually wanted to talk about, the reason she actually came in here in the first place— but as the question flashes across her mind, she finds herself unable to even look her aunt in the face, in case she somehow sees it behind her eyes. Casta seems happy right now. Like,  _ actually  _ happy. She can't risk bringing that down. She can't risk seeing Casta cry again. 

"A hearty breakfast will help you gather your thoughts together." Casta beams, ruffling Glimmer's hair. "I don't believe a leader should ever make a decision on an empty stomach!" 

"Mmm." Glimmer smiles, so forcibly it strains her cheeks. She _is_ hungry, and she absolutely won't refuse Casta's cooking under any circumstances, but whenever she pictures herself a decision maker, _the_ decision maker, the _Queen_ — an empty stomach feels like the least of her problems.

For a start, in another burning question that enters her mind as she's chowing down on Casta's divine cooking, causing the sweet soybean to turn to cotton wool in her mouth— what on  _ Etheria _ is she going to get Adora? 

\--- 

There's one other person who might have the answers she needs. And by the time she's finished breakfast, any effort to quell the urge, convince herself this is a horrible idea (it is, but that's not going to stop her), is pretty much out the window. 

Frustration and nerves surge into adrenaline that propels her through the hallways like she's running from something— but her steps, as always, slow as she approaches the spare room, a strange anxiety pulling within her, pulling the other way. Things just start to  _ seem _ a little darker the closer she gets, even though the actual lighting doesn't change, and it feels like she's wading through some metaphysical current, pushing against some foreboding energy urging her to turn back. 

She does eventually reach the doors with inexplicable difficulty, waiting for her heart rate to slow before she grants its occupant the courtesy of knocking before she enters. Teleporting, even if she did have the energy for it, just feels  _ wrong _ this time for some reason. She even calls out, scanning the room in a vaguely rising panic when she doesn't get an immediate response. 

Finally, she spots Shadow Weaver by the window, a dark silhouette in the backdrop of the pale morning sky. With her back to Glimmer, she reaches for her mask where it lays aside on the window seat, reconcealing whatever it is she's hiding underneath ( _ my power came at a price _ is the closest to an answer she's willing to provide, according to Adora)— but otherwise she seems to ignore the budding queen's presence entirely. 

When temperatures dropped, Casta took it upon herself to ensure the considerably frail prisoner was adequately dressed for the impending winter— by digging out the brightest, most garish, most _hideous_ festive sweater Glimmer has ever seen. It hangs a few sizes too big on Shadow Weaver's frame, allowing extra room for the stupid shoulder pad things she still wears underneath— and to be honest, if it was _any_ other person, under _any_ other circumstances, it probably would have been hilarious how ridiculous she looks. 

(Actually, nah— accounting for everything, it _is_ still kind of funny.) 

Yet, when Glimmer joins her side, and she continues to ignore her, she finds it impossible to get the words out, the burning question on the tip of her tongue now a garbled mess refusing to string itself together into a coherent sentence. She avoids looking at the hideous woman and her hideous sweater, following her gaze to the snow-covered landscape before them. Further ahead, partially obscured by Bright Moon's towering cliffs, the Whispering Woods remains in ruins. 

Since the portal fiasco, Horde have been mercifully quiet— to a suspicious, worrying degree. When previously pressed about it, Shadow Weaver _very_ calmly explained that the Fright Zone would need to recover from the damage the portal caused, as Hordak bides his time to plan and execute his next big move now that his main project of the past few decades has fallen apart before his eyes. It makes sense, as much as it makes sense for Shadow Weaver to be so content in her current situation, stupid sweaters and all, as she bides her own time, but it's still hard to trust a word that woman says. It's hard _not_ to feel tense, on constant alert. 

"It's been snowing," she says dumbly, eventually, for the sheer sake of breaking the weighty silence. 

"You did not come here to make pathetic small-talk," says Shadow Weaver, instantly shutting down any further attempts to procrastinate by talking to the evil mistress of dark magic about the damn  _ weather _ . "I'd have thought you would be too busy preparing for the festivities for another lesson. But that's not your reasoning either, is it?" 

Just her mentioning the lessons outloud, calling them what they are, makes Glimmer instinctively want to hush her, like someone's somehow listening, but she manages to stop herself. She can't let Shadow Weaver know she's nervous already. 

"N-no, actually." She lets out a shaky exhale, straightening her shoulders. "I, uh. I wanted to...ask you, actually, about…my dad?" 

Shadow Weaver is silent for a while.

And then: "What about him?" 

"Anything. Anything you remember." 

The sorceress is actually looking at her now, inquisitively, or at least she thinks that's what to read those blank white eyes as right now. "You'll have to be more specific." 

Glimmer already feels the frustration brewing within her. There's a reason (well, a lot of reasons) she doesn't tend to handle interrogations by herself. "Literally _anything_. What he looked like, sounded like, acted like, any little _anecdotes_ —" 

Shadow Weaver looks over her for a long while, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side. It only serves to irritate Glimmer further. "Actually," she says, "he looked very like you." 

"Okay, cool. That isn't very helpful." 

"His hair was black." 

"I  _ knew _ that." 

"What do you  _ want _ to know, Glimmer?" 

"I told you!  _ Anything! _ " She feels her temper rising and quickly pushes it down, unclenching her fists. But the way Shadow Weaver is looking at her makes her feel like she has her on the autopsy table, cutting her open, picking her apart and analysing every piece of her— and it infuriates her to the point that she throws her hands up in irate defeat. "You know what?  _ Fine! _ You win! I don't know  _ why _ I expected a straight answer from you."

"A straight  _ answer _ would require an actual  _ question,  _ Glimmer." 

"Shut  _ up! _ " 

She can't stand for Shadow Weaver to see her get so worked up like this— actually, scratch that, she can't stand Shadow Weaver in general— so she turns on the heel of her fluffy slipper to leave. Her anger seems to dissipate in moments once Shadow Weaver is no longer in her sights, even when she can still feel her eyes on her back, which is something that's been happening a lot lately: whenever she does feel something strongly, it never seems to last very long. 

By the door, she hesitates. 

"Shadow Weaver?" 

"Yes?" 

Should she? 

Probably not. Definitely not. But it finds her way out her mouth before her brain can stop it. "What kind of gift do you think Adora would like?" 

Yep, bad idea.  _ Terrible _ idea. 

It's also a bad idea to continue talking, and guess what she does anyway. "It's just that you know her better than I do, so I— I thought— uh, you know what, never mind, forget I asked." 

"I don't think I do."

She wasn't actually expecting a response, or at least wasn't prepared for one. Her eyes narrow. "You...don't think you what?" 

"Know her better than you do." 

Yeah, no, she's not even gonna bother asking what she means by that. She unseals the doors, still feeling very,  _ very _ watched, when the woman's reverberating voice seems to freeze her in place. 

"In Mystacor," she says, "there's a specific tradition a sorcerer follows when they  _ like  _ someone, so to speak. Tried and true, passed down hundreds of generations." 

Glimmer's eyes widen, her heart dropping to the bottom of her stomach. "H-how...how do you—" 

"Believe me, Glimmer, you would be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't." 

It's so shocking, so  _ mortifying _ , that her mind just bypasses the first four stages of grief altogether; when she sighs, it's basically the moment she lays down and accepts her own death. "What's the tradition, Shadow Weaver?" she asks flatly. 

"They talk to them." 

The guard in the hallway doesn't seem phased when Glimmer slams the door hard enough to send vibrations up the walls. They're probably used to that aftermath.

\--- 

It's snowing again. It's freezing on her face, but it's weirdly kind of refreshing. 

"Hey, Glimmer, d'you know what this is?" 

Bow's voice rouses Glimmer from her daze, as she pulls her gaze from where it's drifted up to the sky to the lumpy, smiley-faced mound of snow Bow's throwing out both his arms to gesture at. She...thinks it's supposed to be a snowman? "I...have no idea, Bow." 

"It's a  _ Snow-Bow! _ " 

Glimmer manages a little huff of amusement. It doesn't look like snow sculpting is among Bow's many talents, but she can at least appreciate the name. "That's great, Bow," she tells him, unfortunately without as much enthusiasm as she would like. 

Bow, thankfully, doesn't seem phased by Glimmer's underwhelmed reaction. He's proud of his work, and that's what matters. He gives his Snow-Bow one last little pat on the head, smiling fondly, then plops down on the bench next to her. "What're you reading?" 

"Oh, this?" she looks down at the opened book in her hands that she very much isn't reading. She was supposed to be taking a lunch break, but she thought, wrongly, that she could get a little studying in. "It's some politics and governance textbook I found in the library. I think it's meant for students, but I'm using it for. You know. Queen training." 

"Ah." Bow nods. His brow furrows. "You sure you shouldn't be taking a break?" 

"I kind of am, I guess. I haven't actually taken any of it in." She closes the book, setting it beside her, and lets her eyes fall on her clasped hands instead. "It's all...a /lot/."

"I've got ya." Bow's hand has settles itself on her shoulder, where it seems to find itself a lot these days. "But that's probably even more reason to take a breather, isn't it? You're burning yourself out here, Glimmer." 

"I haven't even  _ done _ that much today." It's true, at least in her mind, but a little also feels like a lot right now. She recharged after that encounter with Shadow Weaver but she still feels sluggish and overwhelmed. She always feels sluggish and overwhelmed. "It's been two months, Bow. Mom's court can't fill in forever. I'm...going be queen soon. I'm going to be queen soon." 

It barely feels real, no matter how often she repeats the words. Over and over like a mantra as people, themselves probably more qualified to run a queendom than she is, steer her through a transition she never thought she would have to make in the first place, at least not so soon. 

She still slips up sometimes. She'll absentmindedly make a mental note to tell her mom something, or instinctively brace herself for the oncoming lecture when she breaks one of her rules, and then the realisation will throw her off her tracks like a punch in the gut, but it never seems to be enough for it to actually set in.

Her mom is gone. She's going to be queen soon. Her mom is gone. 

Maybe one day she'll face the full blow. 

Bow is rubbing circles on her back. She leans her head on his shoulder with a weary sigh. 

"You doing okay, Glimmer?" he asks gently. A really dumb question on the surface, but it's more of an invitation to vent than anything else. 

"I talked to Shadow Weaver this morning," is her discerning answer, and she feels Bow's hand freeze. 

"You—  _ what _ ? Why?" 

"I was asking her about dad." 

"Oh…" Bow sounds deflated. "Oh, Glimmer…" 

"Yup. And the best part is, she didn't even tell me anything. Cos of  _ course _ she didn't! What did I  _ expect _ ?" This sigh is much more exasperated as she fully sits up, prompting Bow to look at her properly. " _ You  _ saw him in that portal world, didn't you? I'm not crazy, am I?" 

"We all saw him, Glimmer. Me, Adora, your…" He trails off. "Why is it bothering you now, though? Did something happen, or...?"

"No. Well, kind of, I— I had a dream about him last night." 

"Ah." 

"And mom." 

Bow nods somberly. 

"It...wasn't really a  _ bad _ dream, they were just...there, and we were eating dinner, and talking." She lets her gaze drift back to the sky. A snowflake lands on her nose. "You were there too, and Adora. All of us, just...together, having a nice normal time. It's...weird, I...I've never actually been able to  _ picture _ my dad in my dreams till that whole... _ thing _ , and now I  _ know _ what he looked like, sounded like, acted like, or at least what he  _ would _ have..." She closes her eyes, exhaling. "I don't know. I can only remember being there for a few minutes before it all started falling apart, but in those few minutes I...I had a dad, Bow. I'd always had a dad. I basically lost both my parents in one day." 

"I'm really sorry, Glimmer," says Bow, squeezing her shoulder as an assurance he's here for her.

"I don't want to forget him again." 

"I know." 

"What if he's still out there?" 

"I…" 

"I mean, I don't— understand how this alternate reality stuff works, but he looked the age he should be now, right? How did the universe replicate someone who no longer exists?"

"I...don't know, Glimmer." 

"It's...it's fine, I don't expect you to. I just...I just want my family back, Bow. I can't believe she's gone." Her voice begins to crack. She doesn't realise she's shaking until Bow's arm tightens around her, like he's trying to hold her together. 

"Do you want a hug?" Bow asks her, and Glimmer nods wordlessly. He doesn't know what to say— who would, honestly?— but he's always reliable for hugs. 

They hug for a while, until Glimmer's able to swallow the lump in her throat back down to the pit of her stomach. She pulls back once she's sure she's regained her composure. The wind is picking up. They should probably go back inside.

"Thanks, Bow," she murmurs, hunching up her shoulders so she can hide her face in her scarf, shielding herself from the icy chill. "Sorry, I hate bumming you out." 

"Don't be. You don't have to bottle things up, Glimmer. We're  _ all _ here for you. Me, Adora…" He squints. "—Say, where  _ is _ she, anyway? I haven't seen her since breakfast." 

"No idea," says Glimmer, and the finality in her tone causes Bow to raise a brow, but also stops him from pressing any further. "Can we go inside? I'm getting  _ really  _ cold out here." 

Bow nods and gets up, offering his hand to Glimmer as if her little outburst has rendered her unable to rise herself. She takes it anyway, and keeps it held as she teleports them back into the safe warmth of the indoors. 

"Wow, it's really picking up out there." Bow mutters, watching the brewing blizzard they'd narrowly managed to avoid from the window, "I hope everyone's inside." 

"Mmm." Glimmer’s looking the other way. Towards the throne room. Bow seems to realise what she's thinking. Or at least the gist of it. 

“Look, Glimmer.” He comes behind her, laying his hand back on her shoulder. “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but wherever your parents are, I know they’d both be really proud of you." 

Glimmer smiles wanely in thanks, then looks out the window. She left the book outside. Oh well. 

"But they'd also want you to be happy. Or at least...not...this unhappy." 

Glimmer doesn't really respond to that. 

“You know,” she says after a while, “I’m just realising I  _ really  _ don’t like snow.”

\---

Glimmer decides to give Casta the go-ahead with the Solstice celebrations. If there's one thing she's learned as a budding leader, it's that people cling to the stability of routine more than ever in times of uncertainty. It's not really about what she wants. 

She thinks it'll be okay. She's thinks  _ she's  _ okay. Most of the time. 

The waves of grief are brief and intense, stopping her in her tracks, stealing the air from her lungs. Sometimes they hit her at random, sometimes when she's alone, sometimes when she's not. 

It's worse when Adora's there. She'll feel her watching. And if she makes the mistake of looking up, it's impossible to miss those two dreaded words etched across her features:  _ I'm sorry. _

She knows from her, it's far more weighted than  _ I'm sorry for your loss _ . Far more behind it than sympathy and condolences. Thinking too much about it makes her chest ache. 

Thinking too much about Adora makes her chest ache. 

It's obvious the others are speculating. The Horde's deafening silence leaves them without much to do but speculate. Someone's going to bring it up at some point, and she has a feeling it's coming when Adora excuses herself from the Princess Alliance meeting (which meandered into discussing differing Solstice traditions) for a bathroom break. But as they exchange looks with each other, like they're silently debating who should ask, Mermista is the last she expects to be the one to leans across the table, speaking low enough that Glimmer doesn't feel like everyone's listening (they're listening anyway, though, of course they are). 

"Hey, things have been  _ really  _ weird between you and Adora lately. Did something, like,  _ happen _ , or...?" 

At the other side of the table, she can see Netossa whisper something to Spinnerella, who badly suppresses a little giggle. She understands the gist. They kind of have it right. But they also have it very,  _ very _ wrong. 

It's more complicated, she thinks, than what everyone's assuming. Too complicated for her to string into words. 

"Look," says Mermista, suddenly looking a little guilty, "if it's too personal—" 

What Glimmer responds with isn't really an answer, but it's enough to take everyone off-guard, Mermista herself drawing back like she's just been singed. 

"I'm scared of losing her too." 

Adora returns, the conversation resumes from where it was, and Glimmer sinks dejectedly into her seat, just barely able to return the nervous smile Adora casts her way. 

She still doesn't know what gift to get her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny thing is this chapter was initially going to have a happy ending but it started getting too long so I had to leave you all with that. :P Thanks for all the support so far, kudos/feedback are always appreciated! <3


	3. Winter Solstice: Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wasn't expecting this much feedback and honestly I cannot thank you guys enough, I'm not the most confident writer so it honestly means so much to me. <3 I'll definitely be sure to check out you guys' work and return the favour!
> 
> This Winter Solstice arc was originally supposed to be one chapter but now it's split into three. To think this entire fic was originally going to be a fluffy one-shot, who do I even think I am?

When the day arrives, Glimmer wakes up with a pounding headache. She decides that’s excuse enough to stay where she is for a while, blankets drawn over her head, only responding in half-conscious grumbles when someone (she thinks it's Casta) comes in to check on her. It's only once the morning moon is high in the sky and guilt prevails over exhaustion that she manages to drag herself out from her cushiony cocoon so she can get this all over with. 

Breakfast is sitting, stone cold, by the window seat (confirming it was probably Casta who came in earlier). She eats it slowly, her eyes transfixed on the view outside, over what's soon to be her queendom. It hasn't snowed in a few days, and most of the snow that remains on the ground has been trodden to brownish mush, a bleak landscape overcast by a bleak grey sky. 

Tonight, she will deliver the Solstice Sermon in place of her mom. Tonight, she will go through her first Solstice without her mom, and her last Solstice as a Princess. 

She leans her forehead against the window, hoping the cold from outside will somehow seep through the double glazing and provide some semblance of relief from the painful drumming in her head. 

Her ceremonial robes hang over one of her chairs, the notes for her Sermon laying in a haphazard pile-type thing across her desk. She'll need to rehearse it some more at some point today, until she can at least picture that she's in front of an audience of her future subjects and political allies without her voice quivering. She's not sure how anyone expects her to be ready for any of this when she can barely bring herself to get ready for the day, even though all she does is wash up and throw on her usual clothes (probably best to save the robes for tonight). Her eyes fall on her gift for Adora just as she's on her way out, and she takes a moment to shove it into one of her desk drawers so she doesn't have to look at it again until tomorrow. Out of sight, out of mind. 

By this point it feels like her head is splitting, so the first place she goes is to the medical office to look for painkillers. What she doesn't expect to find is Mermista in there already, rifling through the cupboards for the exact same thing. 

Oh, yeah. The others are still here. 

"Word of advice, Glimmer," Mermista says instead of a greeting, holding her head with a visible grimace, "do  _ not _ try to drink Seahawk under the table, it's  _ really _ not going to happen."

"Wasn't planning to, but good to know," says Glimmer, flopping back on what's usually the medic's chair (there ideally  _ should _ be someone in here, but she doesn't care enough to sort that right now), "have you found anything?" 

Mermista groans. "I was kind of hoping you'd know where they are. Don't you  _ live _ here?" 

"Well, yeah, but I've never really needed medicine." Glimmer shrugs. "Immortal mom and all." 

"Oh." Mermista's shoulders slump. "Yeah. Sorry." As if she has to apologise if Glimmer's mom is so much as mentioned. She finally finds some painkillers, swallowing a couple down with some water before handing them across to Glimmer. "So, what, were you  _ there _ last night? I  _ literally _ can't remember, holy  _ ow _ ." 

"I wasn't, but I'm kind of starting to wish I was." She shakes her head, the corners of her lips actually twitching up in amusement at the thought of a very drunk Mermista. "I might just be stressed." 

"About the speech?"

"The speech. The Horde. General queen stuff." She pauses to take the painkillers. Realises she's too much of a wuss to swallow them whole. Snaps them in half and tries again. "Adora." 

"You're still hung up on the Adora thing?" Mermista slides the glass of water back to herself once Glimmer puts it down. She occupies herself with idly swirling her finger above the glass, creating a mini vortex in the water. Like she's  _ totally  _ not  _ actually  _ invested in this,  _ obviously _ . "Have you considered, like,  _ talking _ to her?" 

Glimmer sighs. Even if Mermista is marginally less condescending than Shadow Weaver, she really doesn't have the time or energy to deal with advice from people who just don't  _ get it.  _ "What I said, Mermista? About losing her? That's exactly why I  _ can't  _ talk to her." 

"Urgh,  _ Glimmer _ ." Mermista groans again, throwing her head back dramatically (which can't have helped her headache). "Look, I know we don't talk much or whatever, and that this is, like, none of my business. But I've seen what you and Adora have, and honestly, I'm pretty sure you two are gonna survive  _ anything  _ at this point." 

"I'm not scared about her  _ dying _ , Mermista."  _ Well,  _ now _ I am. _

"Yeah,  _ duh _ . You're scared of losing what you have now. Like if you confess your  _ massive _ crush and she doesn't feel the same way, things are gonna get weird between you." 

"Hey, I don't have a—" Ugh, who is she even kidding at this point? "Yeah. I guess." 

"Or say she  _ does  _ feel the same way, and you take the next step, but things don't work out, and then things get weird." 

"...Yeah." Probably the less likely of the two.

" _ Or  _ maybe the feelings themselves scare you. Things were comfortable and familiar, but now your feelings turning into something new, and different, and weird. You've never actually  _ done  _ this before, have you, Glimmer?" 

"Um. No." 

"Okay. So. This…" Mermista gestures vaguely. " _ Thing _ that you guys have—?"

"Friendship?" Glimmer asks, raising a brow.

"It's more than that. It's like...this  _ connection _ , you just vibe with each other, like you've known each other your whole lives. I sensed it like, the day I met you two, and you know me, I'm not one for reading  _ energies _ or  _ auras _ or whatever. You don't come by something like that easily, Glimmer, and it's not lost easily either. Like,  _ urgh _ , I  _ wish  _ I had that with Seahawk. Why am I even dating that guy?" 

Glimmer often wonders the same thing, but it's probably rude to do so aloud, and it's far from the first thing on her mind. How is  _ Mermista _ , of all people, managing to conceptualize this better than Glimmer herself ever could? "Yeah, I guess you're right," is what she says instead.

"I  _ know  _ I'm right. But here's the thing: you notice what's happening between you and Adora now?" 

"What?" 

"Things. are getting.  _ weird _ ." 

"Yeah. They are." 

"Because you're pushing her away."

"I'm n— it's not  _ just _ that," Glimmer interjects defensively, her heart rate rising, "it's...complicated, okay?" 

"Talk out the other stuff too, then." Mermista flashes her a look. "Or this is only going to get worse." 

"But what if—" 

" _ Urgh _ , don't even  _ start _ with that. When have you ever let 'what if' stop you before?" 

Wow, Mermista almost sounds...passionate. She's even looking at Glimmer, making actual eye contact. If she's trying to convince her, it's definitely working. The bleak cloudcover are lifting, and things suddenly look a little better illuminated in the light. Even her headache isn't as bad now, but maybe that's just the painkillers kicking in. 

"Anyway, the queen stuff," Mermista continues, bringing her attention back to the water, "I...can't imagine what you're going through right now with like, your mom and stuff. There's no way you could've prepared for any of this, you didn't  _ ask _ for any of this. Like,  _ I _ was basically in political training as soon as I was forming coherent thoughts, I  _ thought _ I wanted to 'cause I didn't have another choice, and then my eighteenth birthday rolled around and I still didn't feel ready. To be honest, I  _ still _ don't feel like I know what I'm doing a lot of the time. Like,  _ no one _ knows what’s going on or what’s gonna happen, with like, the Horde and the war and stuff. It... _ really _ sucks, Glimmer, no one's gonna pretend it doesn't, but no one expects you to go through this alone either. We've all got your back. Even me. Just, you know, as long as you don't expect  _ too _ much." 

"Wow. Um." Glimmer's so touched and dumbfounded that for a moment, that's all she can say. Mermista glances her way expectantly, quirking a brow, and that's when she manages to speak again. "Mermista, can I...hug you?" 

Mermista rolls her eyes, which is pretty much what Glimmer expects, but it's light-heartedly, accompanied with a smile, an actual  _ smile _ — and instead of telling her  _ don't push it  _ or something Mermista-esque like that she actually holds out her arms, beckoning Glimmer towards her. "You," she says into Glimmer's shoulder, as she almost throws herself into Mermista's arms before she can change her mind, "are  _ so  _ lucky I'm still a little drunk." 

She gives her a reassuring little squeeze then pulls back, patting Glimmer's arm. "Now go talk to Adora, you moron." 

\--- 

There's a particular photo of Glimmer and her mom that Bow would lose it over every time he saw it. The photographer for whatever media outlet it was happened to arrive right in the middle of one of their shouting matches, forcing mother and daughter to put a lid on the issue and play happy families while they were both still seething to the brim. Her mom is successful in this, at least outwardly, managing to resume her flawlessly serene demure— while Glimmer's smile is so cheesy, so strained, so  _ obviously _ fake that it looks like someone's pulling her cheeks back. 

This whole day feels like that photo, only now, nobody's laughing. 

Glimmer has mostly managed to avoid the media in the past couple months, and before then it was always her mom who dealt with them. But this year's Winter Solstice is considered an even bigger affair on account of everything that's happened since the last, and it's not only the media she has to play her part in front of as she finds herself at the forefront of the remaining preparations. Learning but competent, somber but emotionally sound— she can only hope she teeters the line more convincingly than she'd smiled in that damn photo, since her mind seems to be floating around somewhere else entirely. 

It occurs to her, as she steals some time alone to practice the Sermon, that her mom must have gone through something similar after her dad… Then again, at least she was  _ already _ an established queen. At least people believed in her. She presumably believed in herself.

She doesn't get a chance to talk to Adora. The hours go by faster than she can keep track of them, each motion she acts out before her audience chipping away at the surge of confident optimism she gained from the conversation with Mermista. Come nightfall, as she stands before her bedroom mirror, attempting to go through her notes one last time as Casta helps with the finishing touches of her robes (it's  _ definitely  _ regal attire when it takes an extra person to put it on), she feels like each and every defensive layer has been peeled away by scrutinizing eyes, mounting anxiety, what if what if what if. Everything she realises she'd blocked off in order to function through the day has caught up with her and paralysed her right here in the moment, too in the moment, and she's pretty sure she's never felt more lost. 

She really wishes her mom was here. Telling her what to do.

"Your hair's getting quite long, dear." Casta's voice draws her attention to her own reflection, where Casta stands behind her, holding out a strand to show its length. Her hair has gotten a little longer, long enough that it's starting to weigh itself down rather than sticking up and out, a loose wavy bob stopping inches above her shoulders. 

If it was longer, a  _ lot  _ longer, she would almost look like…

"Shall I tie it back?" Casta asks her, already holding up another strand, trying to figure out what to do with hair that's probably long enough  _ to _ tie back but not enough to do very much with. 

"Just leave it like this." She runs her hands through her hair as Casta lets it fall, combing it behind her ears. "I should probably get it cut soon anyway." 

It's the first time, she's pretty sure, she's worn a dress that reaches the floor. Definitely the first time she's dressed _nearly_ this lavishly. She feels smaller, somehow. More vulnerable.

She thinks about the Princess Prom. Then she thinks about Adora. 

She thinks about when everything was so much simpler. 

Casta places the headpiece over Glimmer's hair, the silver glinting in the light, matching the colour shift of the gossamer fabric of her outer robe, and she wonders if she'll ever get any of that back. 

"Oh, Glimmer, you look so  _ regal _ ," Casta remarks delightedly, clasping her hands; her smile falters when she sees Glimmer's expression in the mirror. "Is something the matter, dear?" 

It's Casta who  _ always _ looks regal, almost effortlessly so. That elegant confidence just seems to come naturally to her, in her posture, in her demeanor; the authority just radiates from her. 

Casta is also a person, though. That’s how Glimmer knows her. She's pretty, she's nice, she cooks well. But she rarely left Mystacor before she joined the Alliance, where she lives among people who look up to her, a leader first and foremost. 

Does it ever get lonely up there?

"Have you ever been in love, Casta?" 

Glimmer's question is so out of nowhere it causes her aunt to draw back, her expression falling further as her composure momentarily crumbles; it's hard to tell what emotions Glimmer's elicited— what memories she's dug up, if any. 

"You don't have to tell me," she adds quickly, suddenly feeling guilty, "sorry." 

"There was someone," says Casta, now taking Glimmer by surprise, "but it was a very long time ago." 

"What happened?" Glimmer wills herself to ask. 

"We made all these plans together. We were going to go to Salineas. I always wanted to see the ocean." Casta turns from the mirror, eyes downcast, but Glimmer can still see it in her profile: that far-off, wistful melancholy that clouds her features the rare times she lets herself reminisce about the past. "But this was around the time Micah left Mystacor to be with your mother, and I was appointed Head Sorceress in his place. My future was no longer  _ about  _ me, much less us. I was so busy trying fill my brother's shoes that we...well, we drifted. She ended up leaving Mystacor herself not long after." 

Glimmer's heart sinks. She swallows. "Do you miss her?" 

"I still think about her often, but I know I made the right choice. I had to prioritise." Casta's eyes widen and she suddenly whirls back to the mirror, like she just realised the implications of her story. "—But of course it's not the same for everyone. Just look at…" 

"My parents?" She picks up her dad's staff where it's leaning against her vanity, holding it before herself as she straightens her posture, squaring her shoulders. Practicing her Queenly Pose. "I mean, I would if I could." 

\--- 

For some reason, delivering the Sermon without any hiccups, avoiding every disastrous scenario she'd conjured in her mind from tripping on stage to Castle Bright Moon going up in flames, isn't as much of a relief as Glimmer had hoped; the unanimous applause that follows just makes her want to get off stage even faster than her heart is racing.

Her main responsibility of the night is over now, at least. Now all she really has to do is mingle. 

This year's turnout is impressive, to say the least. Familiar faces scattered among a sea of people Glimmer doesn't know, although of course they all know  _ her.  _ She ducks behind a pillar, breathing a sigh of relief as she hears Bow's voice calling out to her over the music and bustling chatter. Her eyes follow his voice to the refreshment table, where he waves her over. She avoids any unwelcome conversations on the way there by teleporting next to him; when she ends up behind him, her inner child makes an unexpected reemergence, as she decides to scare the life out of him by grabbing his shoulders and greeting him with a little "boo." 

"Glim— ACK!  _ Glimmer! _ " he whips round, feigning anger. But then his face breaks into a beaming smile as he scoops her up in a hug that pulls her right off her feet. "He-ey! You did  _ amazing _ up there!" 

Glimmer laughs in surprise— the first time she's laughed in  _ any  _ capacity in a  _ while _ , she realises— and shakes her head bashfully. "I tried. Do you know where the others are?" 

"And you  _ succeeded _ ," Bow affirms. He lets her down, craning his neck as he scans the crowd. He has the advantage of height that Glimmer lacks, but this doesn't seem to give him much more luck. "Uh...around? I kinda lost track— oh,  _ there's _ where my dads went." He raises his arm to wave, and Lance, the only one who sees, enthusiastically waves back, then nudges George who does the same. When they see Glimmer they both give a thumbs up, Lance mouthing  _ you did great.  _

"It's great you can invite your family to these things now," says Glimmer, giving an awkward grin of thanks before averting her eyes, trying to ignore the pang of envy in her gut.

"Yeah, I always wanted to see how they'd react to a Bright Moon Solstice— oh, now we're talking!" He perks up as a server comes round with a plate of spring rolls, gladly accepting one. Glimmer manages to restrict herself to two rather than inhaling the entire stack. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine, just  _ crazy _ hungry. Don't tell Casta but I kind of missed dinner." She eats them both in one go, then turns her attention to the refreshment table. "It's sooort of a Bright Moon-Mystacor Solstice thanks to her hand in it. I'm pretty sure those spring rolls are a Mystacorian recipe, and— ooh, they've got mooncakes!" 

Okay, so maybe things aren't  _ so _ bad. Though as she ravenously shoves an entire cake into her mouth, a voice behind her almost makes her choke. 

"Glimmer?" 

"Oh, hey Adora," says Bow, through his own mouthful of mooncake, before Glimmer can even think about responding, "oh man, you have  _ got  _ to try these." 

"Hi, Bow." Adora picks up one of the mooncakes, taking a bite, but her eyes are on Glimmer— who is, internally,  _ disintegrating.  _

Adora. 

Is wearing. 

A  _ suit _ . 

Why, oh moons above, does Adora have to be wearing a  _ suit?  _

Glimmer isn't sure she could formulate any words even if her cheeks weren't stuffed like a hamster. She attempts to smile, and Adora smiles back, but it's thin-lipped, an indiscernible tension tugging at the edges that makes Glimmer's chest tighten. Bow's pupils frantically dart between the two, like he's watching a tennis match.

"Can I talk to you?" Adora asks her. She glances to Bow, who quickly looks the other way like that's supposed to convince her he's not listening. "Uh, somewhere quieter?" 

"Wha—" Glimmer manages to force down some of the mooncake. "What? Now?" 

"Preferably." 

"Um." She swallows down the rest, then swallows again. "Sure." 

Adora holds out her hand. Glimmer takes it and allows herself to be led through the throngs of partygoers, her heart pounding so hard she swears Adora must be able to hear it over the music and chatter; the last she sees from Bow as she looks back is a raised eyebrow, and a weirdly  _ knowing _ smirk she doesn't like the looks of. 

She swears she used to be able to read Adora really well, but now, watching her back as she keeps her eyes trained ahead, she can’t make out a thing. Is Adora mad at her? She supposes she'd understand if she was, with how avoidant she's been lately, but she doesn't  _ seem  _ mad. There's some other tense energy radiating through to her; her hand feels just as clammy as her own is. 

Before Glimmer has time to discern what that might be, they emerge from the crowd to a (suspiciously) empty patch of floor. Adora lets go of Glimmer's hand, by which point it's so sweaty she'd probably wipe it on herself if not for the risk of looking rude. 

It's still loud. She's overwhelmed, and weirdly claustrophobic for some reason, like there's a million eyes on her, closing in on her, suffocating her. Her heart is pounding in her ears, so loud she can barely hear, barely  _ think _ — 

"Glimmer?" Adora's voice pulls her back to the surface. "Are you—?" 

"Yeah, I'm good, I'm good, I'm just... _ really _ tired." Glimmer exhales. "Um, is something— is something up?" 

"No— uh, yeah, kind of? It's not bad, i-it's just, um..." Adora looks away, rubbing her arm. "I uh. I liked your speech." 

Well, that's obviously not it. "Thanks. I did my best." 

"I thought that part, about the, uh, the days only getting longer after this— I, ha, to be honest, I didn't actually understand why the longest day of the year was a cause for celebration, I thought you guys just really liked parties, but after hearing it put that way, I...understand more. It was...really nice." 

“Well, we also really like parties,” says Glimmer, with a wry smile in thanks. She’d agonised over that part when she was writing the Sermon. It felt necessary, but also just kind of dumb and corny. But she knows how Adora is, she tends to ramble nonsense and meander round the subject when she's super nervous. It's cute, most of the time, but right now Glimmer's that in that horrible inbetween of burned out and panicked and she just needs Adora to spit it out already so she can go to bed. "What's going on, Adora?" 

Adora freezes like a deer in the headlights, her shoulders tensing. Then she exhales, slowly, closing her eyes then opening them again. Glimmer waits with baited breath, the possibilities running through her mind at a million a minute. 

"Glimmer, I—" 

Whatever she's about to say is interrupted by a resounding whoop from Mermista (evidently already plastered), which prompts most of the people in her immediate vicinity— who unfortunately happen to include the other Princesses— to turn their attention to where she's pointing, and erupt in cheers and various yells of encouragement. 

What— oh. Oh no. 

"Glimmer?" 

There's a chandelier here, isn't there? 

"What's going on?" Adora seems to sink down, shrinking under the weight of everyone’s eyes. "Why is everyone staring at us?" 

What  _ better  _ place to hang some…

No. They didn’t. Did they? 

Bracing herself, she looks up. 

And  _ sighs.  _

"Oh for the love of…"

"What?" Adora blinks. "What is it?" 

Glimmer shakes her head briskly, waving her hand. "Don’t worry about it, it's— nothing, just some...dumb tradition." 

"What tradition?" 

She points up, and Adora's eyes follow to the chandelier above— or namely, what's hanging off it. "You see that?" 

"The leaves?" 

"That's mistletoe." 

"Right."

"We're under the mistletoe."

"Yes."

"So we're supposed to...I mean, it's not compulsory or anything, but we're supposed to, um…" 

" _ Kiss,  _ you scallops!" Mermista hollers, to an enthusiastic flurry of agreement. Moons above, there’s even more people watching them now.

"Yeah, um…" Glimmer lets her gaze drop to the floor, feeling the heat rise to her ears. "That."

"That, uh…" Adora forces an awkward laugh. "Wow, that  _ is  _ really dumb." 

That hurts something deep in Glimmer's chest, but she tries to push it aside. They can't, anyway,  _ she  _ can't— 

"Like I said, it's not…you don't  _ have  _ to..." 

Two of Adora's fingers go under Glimmer's chin, tilting her head up; there's nowhere to look— nowhere she  _ can  _ look— but Adora's eyes. 

And she realises, just because she  _ shouldn't _ — 

She can. She has to. She  _ needs _ to.

It's hard to tell who makes the first move after that, but Adora's lips are just as she's always imagined them. 

It's surreal. 

She can hardly process it. 

She wants more. 

She closes her eyes, wanting to stand on her tiptoes, wrap her arms around Adora’s neck, deepen the kiss until reality melts around them. No past, no future, no people or obligations— just her and Adora, together in this moment that they can  _ be  _ together. Everything’s simple, everything's okay, everything’s  _ perfect _ . 

But the moment is over before it has time to begin. And when Glimmer brings herself to open her eyes again, Adora is nowhere in sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's useless lesbian and then there's this...


	4. Winter Solstice: Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait! I feel a little iffy about this one but I think I cured my own depression with that ending so it all works out. Thank you all again so much for your feedback so far, it makes me so happy no amount of corny metaphors can describe. <3

Well, that's enough for tonight. 

Glimmer's only vaguely aware of herself as she half-stumbles, bewilderedly, back into the crowd. She takes the arm of the nearest sober person she recognises— Perfuma, she thinks— and stammers out some lame excuse, about being tired or not feeling well or something, teleporting away before the other has a chance to say anything. 

Her room is far enough from the ballroom that the noise of the party has faded down to a distant background buzz. She can hear, think,  _ breathe _ again, like a drowning girl finally coming up for air. But her thoughts are caught in a whirlwind, billowed in a flurry like the blizzard she can see picking up outside her window. 

Adora just kissed her—  _ she just kissed Adora.  _

There's no way she can go back to that party now. That much she's certain of. 

She's either shivering or shaking as her unsteady hands fumble to remove her headpiece and garments (which are only slightly easier to take off by herself than they were to put on), letting them drop unceremoniously to the floor. She messes up the buttons of her pyjama shirt once, twice, three times, cursing herself under her breath with mounting frustration. All she wants is to go to bed. Maybe after a good night's sleep it'll be like this never happened, things can go back to how they were. 

(She knows, all too well, that isn't how it works— that things haven't been how they were, how she likes them, in a  _ long _ time.)

Frantic eyes flit around the room, trying to find something to focus on, ground herself. Glimmer didn't used to be prone to panic attacks; she's sure she's had more in the past two months than her entire life before then. She tries to remember how her mom had successfully talked her down the one time she started unraveling in front of her. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…

She catches sight of Kowl on the window seat, the stuffed koala-owl toy she's had since she was a baby. One of the few remnants of her childhood she could never bring herself to get rid of, not even when she reached her teenage years and all she wanted was to grow up. She doesn’t know why that’s what brings the tears to her eyes. 

Inhale, exhale…

She's okay. She's okay. 

No, she's not okay. 

But she will be, she  _ might _ be, if she can just— 

Her hand comes up to wipe her eye, but her fingers hover briefly over her lips, where phantom traces of Adora's kiss still linger. 

She knows, or at least she's been told countless times by countless people, that time is supposed to heal. One day (though no one dares use wording this crass), she'll get over her mom. One day, she'll get over Adora. One day, she'll grow up. 

Her eyes fall on Kowl again. Then she picks it up and throws it across the room, as hard as she can manage. It doesn't go very far, and she doesn't feel any better. She watches, chest heaving, as it misses the wall, landing on the floor a few metres before it— and she stares and stares at that wall until her vision blurs, her legs give way under her, and she clamps her shaking hand over her mouth as calculated breaths roll out as choked, pathetic whimpers. 

Inhale, inhale, inhale— 

A knock.

The sound pulls her back to the surface, but the voice that follows wrenches a gasp that tears out what little air she could draw into her lungs. 

"Glimmer? Are you okay?"

...Yeah, no, she needs more air. 

She teleports without much regard for where she's going, emerging from the light midair and landing on her butt on the snow-covered concrete of some unmanned parapet. 

It's  _ cold _ . That’s the first thing she realises when she comes to her senses. The fresh layer of snow beneath her numbs her bare hands, her cosy pyjamas not nearly cosy enough to withstand the icy wind that howls in her ears, tousles her hair. She didn't even have the sense to put shoes or slippers on over her socks. Smart thinking, Glimmer. Truly the pragmatic mind of a Queen-to-be. 

Yet, it's only up here that she manages to steady her breathing. She grasps the wall, dragging herself to her feet. She's shivering, but she's okay. She thinks. 

When the urge to cry rises, she doesn't try to stop it this time, the turmoil she releases with every sob carried away with the blustering wind. She doesn't even know what she's crying about anymore. She's crying about nothing, she's crying about everything, she's numb and she's hurting and she's alone and she's  _ cold _ , so very very cold. She's lost track of time altogether by the time the snow crunches behind her.

Adrenaline surging through her frozen limbs, she pulls her head from her arms, snapping round to be greeted with a looming figure, a mass of billowing golden hair. 

Adora.

(Well, kind of.)

"Did you really transform into She-Ra just to get up here faster?" Glimmer asks her, having to raise her voice as the storm flares up around them like a freezing inferno. Her teeth are chattering. She can barely move. As the adrenaline leaves her, she's left too cold to think. She can barely even see. 

"I wasn't sufficiently dressed," Adora bellows back, unaffected as a huge gust lifts her cape and hair, the assault of snow melting on her upon contact, "and neither are  _ you _ , Glimmer! Come here, you must be  _ freezing _ ."

All other thoughts are subdued by just how much she needs to be warm right now. She summons whatever strength she has left to stumble into Adora's extended arms, enveloped in her warmth. She-Ra's warmth. 

(She prefers Adora.)

Once she's able to, she teleports them both back inside. Adora, releasing her She-Ra form and closing the window she must have climbed out of, leads Glimmer to sit down on the cushioned window seat, finding a blanket and pulling it around her shoulders. Glimmer's already sufficiently warmed up, but she snuggles up anyway, watching Adora with a newfound calm that warms her insides too.

"You seem pretty lucid," Adora says, pressing two fingers to Glimmer's wrist to check her pulse,"and your pulse rate is normal. You probably weren't out there long enough for hypothermia to set in, thankfully. Seriously, Glimmer, what were you  _ thinking _ , going out in that in your pyjamas? If you needed space you could have just told me to go away."

Glimmer finds herself smiling, in spite of herself. She knows Adora's nagging comes from a place of caring; she almost wants to tell her she sounds like her mom. "I don't think I  _ was _ thinking." 

" _ Clearly _ ." Adora rolls her eyes, lightly papping her cheek; her mouth is twitching up, like she's trying not to smile herself. "If I go and get you a hot drink, can you  _ promise _ me you're not gonna go take a swim in the lake or something while I'm gone?" 

Glimmer playfully rolls her eyes. "I'll try my best." Adora glowers at her, and she bites back a laugh and relents. "Fine, I promise! I'll be right here, okay?" 

.

As Adora slips out, Glimmer notices the plate of party food on the side table, a whole a whole assortment of her favourites. The gift hidden in her desk drawer suddenly feels even lamer in comparison, and something she thinks might be guilt curls in her belly. She really hopes Adora comes back soon. 

And she does, cradling a cup of chamomile tea. Glimmer accepts it gratefully, motioning over her now half-empty plate as Adora hovers awkwardly before her. "Do you wanna share?" It's a coded invitation to stay, hopefully not laced with the desperation she feels. 

"I don't think I could eat another bite," says Adora, shrugging off her scabbard and setting the sword aside (that Glimmer cannot  _ believe _ she brought to a party, but then it's Adora so she guesses she can) before sitting down next to her, though her posture remains stiff, like she's still preparing to leave, like she doesn't know if she should be here at all, "and Bow mentioned you hadn't had dinner after Perfuma told us you said you weren't feeling well, so I thought I'd…" She looks at her hands. "Sorry, I know you um, probably wanted space, I was just going to give it to you and leave, if you wanted me to, but then you were gone and—" 

"It's lucky you knew where I went," Glimmer interjects. She reaches out, hesitates, then settles her hand on Adora's shoulder. "Look, it's  _ okay _ , Adora. I probably  _ would _ have froze otherwise."

"I'm still sorry." 

"Don't be." 

She has a feeling it's not just that she's apologising for. 

A silence falls over them. Glimmer retracts her hand as Adora shifts around, settling properly across from her. 

As someone who's had trouble making friends until recently, it's only with Adora that Glimmer came to accept and even enjoy amicable silences. Silences that don’t make her anxious, that she doesn't feel the need to fill for fear of being awkward or boring, where two people can just bask quietly in the pleasure of each other’s company.

This isn't one of those silences, though. It's heavy, almost crushing, weighed down with things left unsaid; the elephant in the room may as well be sitting on her chest. 

"It never snowed in the Fright Zone," Adora says after a while. "The smog always got worse during the winter, though. Sometimes you can’t even go out for more than a few seconds without a vog mask." 

"That...wow." It's far from the worst thing Glimmer's heard about the Fright Zone, but it's still kind of unfathomable. Having grown up in a queendom proudly devoid of pollution, she can't imagine not even being able to safely breathe the air around her. She’s glad Adora got out of there. "It snows every year here. Always around the same time, which is why we centre the Solstice season around it. It's...honestly kind of annoying." 

"I think it's beautiful." 

As Adora says this, Glimmer follows her gaze to the blizzard outside, which is ebbing down to a more steady snowfall. She watches the flakes dance in the wind like stardust, settling over the landscape in layer upon fluffy layer of pure white that almost seems to glitter in the moonlight. It's the exact same thing she's seen countless times, but it's like her perspective has shifted through the mesmerised earnesty of Adora's words. Like she's seeing it through her eyes. 

Then, she looks at Adora, at her profile betraying an almost childlike fascination, the silvery lunar glow softening and highlighting her features in all the best ways. 

She can still faintly hear the party they're both supposed to be attending, but the more she watches Adora and the snow the less anything else seems to matter. No past, no future, just her, Adora, and a sleeping world enshrouded in white. 

"Yeah," she murmurs, "I guess it is." 

Soon enough, the world will reawaken. The snow will freeze over and melt, where it's not already been cleared from roads and walkways or trampled by the shoes of leaving partygoers. It'll dissipate to grey-brown mush then, soon enough, nothing at all. 

She it’s necessary, that the world has to keep on turning no matter what it tarnishes, but to Glimmer's selfish side, it all seems so unfair. Why does everything have to be so fleeting?

"You know," she adds, "I bet Frosta wouldn't mind us crashing at hers, if you really like the snow— like, obviously once all of the, um, Horde stuff has blown over. We could go skiing." 

"Yeah." Adora smiles a little, and it occurs to Glimmer she probably doesn't actually know what skiing is. "That would be nice." 

She wants to show Adora all her favourite places, showcase the best of Etheria to the girl who’s thrown herself into saving a world she barely knows outside of the dismal corner of it she was raised in, and she wants to experience them all over again with her by her side. Skiing in the Kingdom of Snows; swimming by the Crystal Falls; a picnic in Serenia; tea at that cute cafe in Glenmar, run by a rumoured ex-Hordesman who's managed to embrace a peaceful family life. The fantasies flicker through her mind like a flip book, all vague and innocent and kind of dumb, in a future too optimistically idyllic to even bear thinking about.

(It ends with a flashback to her conversation with Casta. How she and the girl she loved were going to go to Silaneas. Who was she? Does Casta even remember her name?) 

"I hate this uncertainty," Adora says, so quietly it's hard to tell if she's talking to Glimmer or just thinking out loud, "not knowing what's going to happen." 

"Mmm." Glimmer hums. "I really wish we had  _ something _ to go on. I don't think even Shadow Weaver knows what's going on unless she's giving us the runaround."

Adora sighs. "Yeah, no, she doesn't have a reason to lie, she wants to bring down the Horde as much as we do. She's not as hard to read as everyone thinks, Glimmer.” She turns to her with a little smirk, trying to bring a little light back into the conversation. “You just have to weigh out how much the situation benefits  _ her _ ." 

"Yeah, it’s...weird, she's actually been... _ really _ helpful? I know more about my magic than ever thanks to her." She grimaces, almost physically pained by having to talk positively about Shadow Weaver. "It kind of sucks, actually, I have been  _ itching  _ for round two." She straightens herself, palming her fist (a precarious thing to do while she's still holding her tea), and feels her heart do the happiest of little flips as Adora unexpectedly snorts with laughter. She'd missed Adora's laugh. She'd missed being the one to make her laugh. "What? I could take her!"

"I've  _ know  _ you can take her, dumbface. I still wish I'd been conscious to witness it." Glimmer can see her eyeing the party snacks and pushes the plate over. Adora picks up a mooncake and takes a huge bite, continuing to talk through the mouthful. They're presumably not taught about that kind of etiquette in the Horde, but Glimmer's honestly the last person to care. It's just another one of Adora's weirdly cute little quirks that might only be cute because it's Adora. "Sorry, it was calling to me, I couldn't resist— oh, these are so  _ good. _ "

"My face isn't as dumb as her sweater," Glimmer grumbles. It's really hard to keep playing grumpy while she watches Adora's typically theatrical reaction to good food. Even after months of living here, Adora's still so enthralled by some of the little things, and even after months of witnessing these reactions, even when she herself takes most of these things for granted, the joy always seem to rub off on Glimmer. 

(She could never take Adora for granted.) 

"Oh, that reminds me—" As Adora reaches into the inner pocket of her suit jacket (Glimmer is  _ definitely  _ not going to take the sight of Adora in a suit for granted), Glimmer can only wonder what could possibly be in there that reminisces with Shadow Weaver's stupid sweater. 

What she produces, finally, is a little box.

A very  _ familiar _ little box, right down to the now slightly smooshed... _ bow  _ on top. 

_ Hmmm _ .

"Adora." Glimmer quirks an eyebrow in feigned ignorance. "That's gotta be a  _ really  _ small sweater." 

"Yeah, no, you sharing your food, then the talk of ugly festive sweaters, just got me thinking about festivities in general, goodwill and all of that— and that made me remember... this, um—" She holds out the box, looking away bashfully. "Weird train of thought, you know? Sorry, I, uh, haven't really— done this before…" 

Usually, people don’t exchange gifts until morning, but there's no use pointing that out. "Uh, hang on, we should probably do this at the same time," says Glimmer. She sets the tea she's been steadily sipping safely aside as she gets up, leaving her blanket discarded on the seat while she retrieves Adora's gift from her desk drawer; realisation crosses Adora's features as soon as she sees the box, fashioned with an identical bow. 

"Did..." 

"Yup," Glimmer confirms, "he insisted on it. Right down to the wrapping." 

They exchange gifts, along with playful eye rolls directed towards Bow and his meddling, and their own inabilities to settle on gifts for each other without it. Glimmer can only watch from the corner of her eye while Adora opens her, feeling a familiar heat rising up her cheeks. She doesn't know why this is making her so nervous— Adora already pretty much knows what it is. 

It's a bracelet. A simple gold chain, fashioned with a ruby charm Bow showed her how to painstakingly whittle down into a faceted star. 

("Why a star?" he'd asked her, and she'd made some dumb (and in hindsight maybe kind of insensitive) 'out of this world' joke because she was too embarrassed to explain the actual reason.) 

"Oh, Glimmer." She holds it up to the light, watching how it reflects off the deep red of the jewel. "It's so pretty." 

Adora's gift to Glimmer is, as she suspected, almost identical. Silver chain, and the charm is a moonstone whittled into a crescent moon, which she supposes makes more immediate sense. On one hand, she's grateful, to both Bow and Adora, she'll treasure this, she already knows that for certain, but on the other— 

Did Bow really have them make each other  _ friendship bracelets?  _ Adora obviously has the same thought, Glimmer sees it when she accidentally meets her eye as she opens her mouth to thank her— and they both fall into a fit of giggles. 

It's not that funny, it might not even be funny at all, but there are tears of laughter in the corners of Glimmer's eyes by the time she looks up again. Her cheeks already hurt from smiling more than she has in a long time. 

She’s a little surprised Adora seems to know what a friendship bracelet is. Maybe it's one of those things that's universal with kids everywhere, like playing tag or drawing that weird S thing all over their school books. There's one likely person Adora would have exchanged them with, though, and...no, she's not entertaining that thought.

(Bow was actually the one to introduce the concept of friendship bracelets to her, back when they were two dumb kids with stars in their eyes and Glimmer's mom was still there to handle all the important stuff, the high stakes stuff. They wove each other's bracelets from string, and wore them until they began to fray and unravel and they both came to the unspoken agreement to give them up. She supposes when it comes to these bracelets made of silver and gold, the chains or the clasps might just snap eventually. She supposes it kind of does reflect how friendships work, or at least how they end.) 

"Can you help me put this on?" Adora asks, fumbling with the clasp. "It's really— oh, thank you." 

Adora helps her fasten hers too, and they both hold their wrists up to each other's for comparison. Glimmer starts giggling again, until she realises Adora isn't. 

"Hey." Glimmer reaches over to poke her nose, which seems to rouse her attention. "What's up?" 

Adora pokes hers back, and grins far too wearily to be reassuring as Glimmer does the inevitable nose crinkle. "Sorry, I'm just…happy."

"Happy?" She's  _ something _ , but Glimmer isn't sure if happy is the word. Nostalgic, maybe. For the nights in Glimmer's room where the world was still and the moons were their company, where they could talk about anything and everything without the tension, without the damn elephant. 

(Fearful, terrified, that the comforting familiarity they've found in each other is crumbling, giving way to an uncertain future.)

"Festive spirit." Adora shrugs, and they're both momentarily distracted as, as if on cue, a distant cheer can be faintly heard erupting from the ballroom, the music rising in volume to the point that Glimmer can tell what song it is. It must be time for the dance. 

"You can go back if you want."  _ Don't go. Not now. Not yet. Not like this. _ "I'm okay now. I'll be okay."

"I'd rather be here. If you want me to." Adora's hand finds Glimmer's, hesitating over it, her smile wavering; Glimmer can see right through the cracks forming across her composure, and it pulls at what she keeps trying to bury with a panic that tightens her throat.  _ Not now, not yet. _ "I've...really missed you, Glimmer." 

"I've missed you too." Glimmer's fingers slide through Adora's, like the resurgence of an old instinct. Her gaze drifts to the window. The snowfall has slowed, enough that she can follow an individual snowflake until flutters out of view. "I'm...sorry I've been so absent lately, I've just been really...in my own head, I guess. It's...hard to explain." 

"It's fine." Adora sighs. "I can't really blame you after...everything."

Glimmer's eyes widen. Her heart sinks. "Adora..."

“Sorry, sorry, I—” Adora lets out something that sounds like a laugh, but it's bitter, completely humourless, muffled into the hand she brings over her mouth. It sounds more like she's about to cry. "I always have to go and ruin it, don't I?" 

"Hey, no—" But Adora's already pulled her hand away, closing in on herself. "Come here." Glimmer's slow in her movements, allowing Adora the chance to reject the comfort at any point, first gently taking Adora's wrists, trailing her hands to her shoulders, then, finally sliding her arms around her, pulling her in like a lifeline. Adora makes no move until she returns the embrace, hiding her head in Glimmer's shoulder as she clings to her with a desperation that harrowingly reminds Glimmer of herself on that first night, her breathing shallow and rushed as much as it sounds like she's trying to steady it. 

"I'm sorry." Adora whispers, the quivering distress in her words wrenching the tightness in Glimmer's throat. "For everything. I'm so sorry." 

"You  _ need _ to stop apologising," Glimmer says, and it might come out more harshly than she means it too. She runs her hand up and down Adora's back, trying to communicate through her touch that she didn't mean it that way. "It's not your fault, none of this is your fault." 

In the whole two months, they've only  _ kind of _ managed to talk about what happened. Adora knows that it isn't her fault, that Glimmer's mom made her own decision to sacrifice herself in place of Adora. But knowledge isn't acceptance. The guilt will chip away at her, sullying her every interaction with Glimmer, pulling her away in the currents of time, in the waves of grief, until,  _ unless— _

Unless Glimmer can hold on. 

And she  _ can  _ hold on, she  _ will  _ hold on. 

She can't let this end. 

Not now, not ever. 

"I love you," she says. It slips out among the typical affirmations, the  _ it's okay _ 's and  _ I'm here _ 's, before she's aware of the words taking shape in her mind. "I love you," she repeats, "I love you." 

Soon enough, Adora's breathing steadies out, but her pulse doesn't slow, its rhythm reverberating even through the layers of clothes between them. Her arms are around Glimmer as she draws herself back, leaning her forehead against hers. Glimmer, suddenly, is aware of her own pulse, picking up in turn. It's the good kind of heart racing, she thinks, she hopes. She wonders if their hearts are in sync. She wonders how long it's been since she last thought about that. 

She’s about to ask, stupidly, if Adora’s okay, until Adora’s words knock her right off course.

"I've never kissed anyone before tonight," she confesses quietly, her lips twitching in a stifled laugh. "I don't know what I was thinking. I’m—" She bites back the apology. “I probably...shouldn’t have done that.”

Glimmer's always tentative about touching Adora's face. She knows she doesn't like it, and she's pretty sure she knows why. But as Glimmer lingers her hand over her cheek, silently requesting permission, Adora actually leans into the touch, closing her eyes briefly with a releasing sigh. "I kissed you too," she points out softly, "it takes two to tap dance, or whatever that dumb phrase is." 

A light dusting of pink rises up Adora's cheeks. She places her hand over Glimmer's, holding it where it is, her fingers calloused yet her touch feather-light where she runs her thumb across the smoother skin of a hand that's never wielded a sword. "I'm so embarrassed," she almost whispers, "Everyone was staring, I don't know, I just— did I even do it right?" 

"Shh." Glimmer soothes, bringing her other hand up to Adora's other cheek. "I wouldn't know." She pauses. Her heart is pounding, her skin is tingling, the butterflies finding their home in her stomach — the good kind,  _ definitely  _ the good kind. "I mean," she adds quietly, so quietly even the omnipresent reach of the moons can't eavesdrop, the moment theirs and theirs alone, "we could always try again." 

When their lips meet, the white and red sparks dancing between them mingle and merge into one unified light that glows and grows, so warm she momentarily forgets what it is to be cold, so vitalising she momentarily forgets what it is to be afraid. It's hard to define a moment. It could have been a second, it could have been an eternity. And when she opens her eyes, Adora is still there in front of her, eyes sparkling and a soft, bashful smile gracing her features that Glimmer swears, then and there, is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. 

Silence falls over them again after that. The best kind of silence, filled with warmth and butterflies. They find a settled position neither of them are going to move from anytime soon, Adora resting against the cushions behind her, Glimmer resting across her with her head on her chest. She could stay here forever. 

“Glimmer?” Adora chimes softly. 

“Hm?”

"I love you too. Did I mention that already? I’m not sure I did." 

Glimmer lets out an amused huff, shifting ever so slightly to drape her arm across Adora's waist. "It’s okay. I kind of gathered." 

"I wish I'd told you before.” Adora sighs. “Even before...any of this, I was just…" 

"Scared?" Glimmer's eyes flicker up to meet Adora's. 

"Scared. Confused. Not sure whether you... I actually confided in Bow before the party and he gave me this big pep talk that got me all psyched up. It...probably wasn't the best time to confess anyway, in hindsight, and I didn't account for that whole  _ mistletoe  _ thing—" 

Well, that explains the way Bow was looking at them when Adora took her aside. 

"That's…" Glimmer lets out another amused huff. "Very Bow. I got  _ my  _ pep talk from  _ Mermista _ ." She groans to herself. "You know it's bad when  _ Mermista _ gets involved."

“Oh,  _ wow _ .” Adora groans as well, comedically dramatic. "Why are we  _ like _ this, Glimmer?" 

"We're dumbfaces. Both of us. The dumbest faces in Etheria." She pokes Adora's nose again. "And...you know, there's...actual reasons, that are still there.” Ah, there you are, reality. “I don't know if we can, like, feasibly...be...a thing." 

"Do you want to?" 

"What?" 

"Be a thing?"

"I mean…" Glimmer feels a familiar leap of trepidation in her chest, but it's dwarfed by the conviction of the real answer. "Yeah. I do. I  _ really _ do."

"Then we'll make this work." 

"How?" 

"We improvise." Glimmer  _ snorts _ , pulling herself up slightly to lightly shove Adora's shoulder, and Adora’s jaw drops as she pretends to be offended. “What? It’s how we do everything else!”

“You’re  _ such  _ a dumbass,” says Glimmer, and it’s true, but she makes a compelling point _ —  _ and Glimmer, is, well, also a dumbass. They’re perfect for each other. 

"Can I be  _ your  _ dumbass?" Adora does an excruciatingly cute kissy face and Glimmer rolls her eyes, trying to hide the giant smile tugging her lips. 

“I  _ guess _ .” She’s smiling, contrary to the poorly feigned reluctance of her words. She can’t stop smiling. 

They solidify the decision with another kiss, and it's familiar now, so familiar Glimmer wonders why she was ever scared in the first place. The world is theirs, and it's boundless. They can take it all on in their stride; soar over the moons and dance in the stars.

Obviously, there's plenty of reasons to be scared. Her and Adora have far more to work through than can be dealt with in one night, both together and as individuals. The future remains uncertain, and Glimmer still bears the burden of Bright Moon and the Rebellion and her own persisting grief on her weary shoulders, and Adora may have multiple worlds on hers. 

But tonight, once they can bring themselves to detangle to take care of their bedtime routines, Glimmer and Adora will fall asleep together and safe in the warmth of each other's arms. The snow is falling, the moons are bright, and Adora's eyes are gateways to the stars beyond the foreboding void of Etheria's night sky. Tonight, Glimmer will look into those galaxies and come home on those lips as they meet her own, again and again and again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this isn't the end. Stay tuned for a little surprise in chapter 5. B)


	5. Pink Hibiscus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first of all I'm sorry this took over a month, life got in the way and I just kind of lost my inspo for a while x_x
> 
> This WAS going to be the last chapter, but I decided to be really evil and make it a kind of inbetween chapter that ends on kind of a cliff-hanger (a double cliff-hanger...?)- if it's any consolation, I PROMISE the next chapter won't take as long. I don't know how long this is going to be at this point honestly, it was supposed to be a one-shot, then the Winter Solstice arc was supposed to be one chapter- maybe I just need to stop overestimating my ability to restrain my damn self.
> 
> (That said, this is a bit short compared to the last three chapters. Sorry...again) 
> 
> Before I stop rambling, I just want to thank you all again for your support so far! I didn't really expect anyone outside of my fandom friend circle to actually read this, much less for it to reach almost 1k hits and over 100 kudos!! I really appreciate every single piece of feedback, especially the lovely comments (which I've read over and over). This fic has ended up meaning a lot to me not only as a lesbian (who's still not entirely out irl) writing about a wlw couple in a setting where LGBTQ+ people are the norm and their love is treated and celebrated like any other, but in increasing my confidence as a writer as well- maybe one day I'll be able to bring my own original LGBTQ+-graced work into the world, who knows. 
> 
> Anyway! If it isn't clear this takes place after a pretty eventful time-skip.

"The world is burning." 

"I know." 

"Everything's changing." 

"I know." 

"I'm so scared." 

"Me too." 

"I'm so tired." 

"Me too." 

"I want this to end." 

Hands stop shaking once they're clasped in a grounding warmth. Stifled tears flow freely once the first escaped trail is wiped away with a touch as gently reverent as the moonlight's caress. And in an embrace that pulls together the crumbling pieces, it's finally safe to fall apart.

"I want this to last forever." A whisper, choked and muffled. 

"Me too." Faraway. But sincere. 

Sometimes, it's hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. 

At times like this, does it really matter? 

Later that night, as Glimmer nestles her head on her sleeping girlfriend's chest, the steady rise and fall of a mercifully peaceful slumber soothing her like the rolling tides washing over the windwrought sand, a thought, dumb and crazy, suddenly takes form in her mind. A rogue flicker dancing on the surface of the waves, unanchored, unmoored; reflected in the languid smile it brings across her lips. 

For the first time in a while, she doesn't try to comend with sleep's lulling current. Wilfully succumbing to the exhaustion weighing down on her lids, she dives into the darkness and dreams of the stars. 

\---

"Morning, sleepyhead." 

"Hrrrrmmm..." 

Glimmer makes an attempt to roll over, draw the sheets over her head and capture whatever precious fragments of remaining sleep she can get, but she's captured with a kiss to the cheek before she can summon the capacity to move, and immediately any annoyance at being woken up early seems to evaporate into thin air. 

Besides, it dawns on her once she finally manages to open her eyes, her bleary vision slowly, lazily, bringing her surroundings into focus— it isn't  _ that _ early. 

Adora confirms this when she draws open the curtains, allowing daylight to spill through and flood the room in blinding light that Glimmer's eyes once again have to readjust to. 

Since that night, the thick grey overcast of a gloomy spring has parted ways to a gloriously rose gold summer. She's seen the shift through Adora, too, everyday her smiles looking just a little brighter, her limbs a little lighter. In the loose blitheness of her motions, almost gliding through the simple act of crossing the room, billowing the wisps of hair that fall from her haphazard ponytail and over her near-bare shoulders, Adora may as well be dancing in the clouds. She thinks she might even be able to join her. 

And suddenly, Glimmer feels awake, propelled out of bed by the inclination that sends an invigorating jolt of glee through her veins. Adora blinks in confusion when she takes her hands, stumbling as Glimmer takes one step back and then to the side, trying to pull her in tow. 

"What are you—" 

" _ Dance _ with me, you dummy!" 

" _ Oh!  _ Right!"

Adora lets go of one of Glimmer's hands to lead her into a twirl, and now it's Glimmer who stumbles, almost slipping on the marble floor as she trips over her own bare feet. She's caught just in time, and Adora takes the chance to lower her into a dip, sending Glimmer's heart into a mini somersault. Determined to hide this, she drapes one arm around Adora's neck, batting her eyelashes, a jovial attempt at being seductive— but she can't keep in the giggles long enough for it to work, as if she ever had a seductive bone in her body to begin with. 

They must look so  _ silly _ . Dancing badly in their bedroom to a nonexistent tune, Adora in sandals as her usual get-up switched out for shorts and a tank top, while Glimmer's still in her giant sleep shirt— but damn it, it's  _ nice  _ to be silly, they  _ deserve  _ to be silly. With a flash of accidental eye contact, Glimmer splutters with laughter, and Adora starts giggling too, a light blush blooming across her cheeks. She's  _ glowing _ this morning, wrapped in daylight like it doesn't want to let her go, so beautiful it's almost heartwrenching. Happy, fresh—  _ young _ . 

_ She  _ is  _ young,  _ Glimmer reminds herself, as she often has to,  _ we both are.  _

It's then that Adora's smile falters. She looks away, frowning. Something in Glimmer can tell it's not serious, but she furrows her brow in exaggerated concern. "What's up?" 

"We're not doing this right." 

"Huh?" 

"Hold on," Adora purses her lips, like she's trying to hold in laughter, "I've got this." 

Glimmer takes a step back as Adora lets her go, watching her with a raised brow. She hadn't realised there was a  _ right _ or  _ wrong _ way for girlfriends to dance spontaneously in their room, but Adora seems to be preparing something. She clears her throat, smooths down her tank top and her hair, and then bows with a flourish— so low and dramatic that her nose crinkles as her ponytail flops over her face. 

She should have seen it coming. 

"Your  _ Majeeeesty _ ." Adora extends a hand, drawling the title in a voice several octaves lower than her own. "May I take this dance?" 

Glimmer  _ rolls  _ her eyes. " _ No _ ," she answers, in the firmest, most authoritative, incidentally most  _ queenly _ voice she can muster, swiftly turning away with a swatting motion, "you may not." Adora tries to reach for her hand and she pulls it from her grasp, folding her arms. "Not til you  _ stop _ calling me that."

"Aw,  _ Glimmer _ ." While Glimmer's not nearly as annoyed as she's playing up, her pout melts alongside the rest of her when Adora's arms slide around her from behind. She sinks back into the embrace, tilting her head to accept the wordless apology that comes as a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry," Adora murmurs, "I'll  _ will  _ stop. Eventually. I just love seeing you get all grumpy and  _ flustered _ ."

"I am  _ not _ grumpy or  _ flustered _ !" Glimmer insists, feeling an unwelcome heat creeping up her face. But she does turn back around, reaching to cup Adora's cheeks, standing on her tip-toes to give her a proper kiss. "Stop being so irresistible while you're at it," she adds, very lightly papping her cheek, "I can't even stay mad at you." 

"And  _ I _ can't stop annoying you, so I guess it works out." Adora grins, giving her a peck on the nose. Glimmer sticks her tongue out childishly in response, but honestly, all she really wants to do is to kiss that smile again. And again, and again, and— "—Aaand I  _ just _ remembered what I actually woke you up for."

"You mean  _ that  _ wasn't just to annoy me?" Glimmer gets back on her tiptoes, looping her arms around Adora's neck, drawing herself closer once more. Whatever the reason, unless it's that the Horde have invaded Bright Moon or there's cinnamon buns leftover from breakfast, it can probably wait a kiss or two. "You  _ know _ I like to sleep in."

"And  _ you _ know I won't ever deprive you of your lie-ins unless I have to." Adora traces the tips of her fingers up Glimmer's cheekbone, idly tucking back a few stray strands before letting her hand venture up into her hair. It's still growing out; she can't seem to bring herself to cut it. "I'm not  _ that _ cruel. It's just that your dad's back, and—" 

"Huh?" Glimmer blinks, her brain functions momentarily halting. "Already?"

"Yup, Casta's with him, they wanted to know if—"

Glimmer's already getting dressed, throwing her shirt over her chair (Adora then folds it up and sets it neatly on the bed— they've previously argued over what Glimmer proclaimed The Laundry Chair, and she's  _ usually  _ tried to be more adherent to Adora's affinity for order and tidiness since then) and opting to follow Adora's lead in dressing down with a simple lilac sundress her mom got her a few years ago, that she hated at the time for reasons she can't remember. Adora comes behind her again as she sifts through the closet for her ballet pumps, placing something in her hair; when she catches herself in the mirror, she sees it's a flower hairpin; a pink hibiscus. She forgot she even had that. 

What she  _ does _ remember is the pink hibiscus that 'tied together' Adora's terrible 'totally-not-a-Hordeswoman' disguise. There's not a lot else she can recall about the day they first met, just because it was all so chaotic and nonsensical (which really set the theme for the Best Friend Squad's ensuing adventures, in all honesty). She can remember the  _ hatred _ , that surge of near-murderous anger shooting up through her veins, upon setting eyes on a girl in Horde uniform. She also remembers just hours later, catching a furtive glimpse of that same girl, with a pink hibiscus in her hair, letting her hardened features soften over in a wistful fascination as she watched the villagers go about their joyously simple lives. She's pretty sure that's the first time she felt a flicker of  _ something  _ for the Horde soldier she was supposed to despise,  _ something _ that doused that visceral fury and bloomed as something else, something equally fervent. 

The memory momentarily pulls her from her haste. She can see Adora in her reflection. The warmth of her smile, the light of Glimmer's world. The knowing glint in her eye. She remembers too. 

She turns to see her in person, taking her hand, tangling their fingers, and kisses her hastily like it's their first, desperately like it's their last. It's neither of those, she just really wanted to kiss her. 

It's funny, she thinks, how the strings of fate can pull the unlikeliest of people together; how two such people can come to harmonise their tunes, dance together to the same melody. 

How would Glimmer have reacted, back then, if she'd been told it would work out like this? 

If she'd known, by this point in time, she would already have a ring picked out? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanation for anyone who needs it: 
> 
> So I kind of hinted at a couple of major things that happened during the eventful time-skip without going into them. There's more explanation in the next chapter (which maybe I should have just kept merged with this one but I guess it encourages me to get it out faster and not leave everyone hanging for over a month again), but I don't go into what's happening in the background _too_ much since the main focus is Glimmer and Adora's story and how what's happening around them weaves into that. Maybe the background stuff can be a separate fic, I _have_ been considering it.


	6. Seize the Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, I'm still alive, two and a half months later. 
> 
> I'm really sorry for the mega slow update; between real life commitments, not really liking how the last chapter turned out, and being conflicted on whether to continue this at all after what went down in season 4- I just lost motivation for a while. 
> 
> The good news is that what was supposed to be the final chapter ended up being over 9k words long (and I haven't even finished it yet), so I decided to split it into smaller parts. I'm uploading both chapter 6 and 7 today, and 8 and 9 (possibly 10 if it gets that long) will come in the next few days, just so I can finally put a lid on this damn fic. Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck around this long! 
> 
> These chapters take place after another, much smaller time skip (maybe a couple of weeks). I left whether or not season 4 happened here up to the reader, but I think both time skips combined give enough time for our favourite gays to have ironed over all of that anyway.

Here's the thing about flowers: they don't actually last very long. 

The first time Glimmer brought Bow to Mystacor, it was during the Spring Festival. Casta, who of  _ course _ immediately doted on him, taught him how to weave a Mystacorian flower crown, and he donned his own creation with more regal pride than Glimmer, even now, could ever hope to muster. He was beside himself when it started wilting. 

At the time, Glimmer thought his reaction was just a  _ tad _ dramatic, and maybe it was. It was only later, after she learned he didn’t actually have the unspeakably tragic past his silence on the matter implied, that she realised this must have his first experience with death. 

Glimmer was all too acquainted with death before she knew what the word meant. Through her mom, through the murals, through overheard whispers and empty chairs and silent hallways that echoed with loss, grief permeated the very air she breathed, coursing through the blood in her veins, mourning embedding itself deep into her bones. She had no memory of his presence, yet she felt his absence like a gaping wound, haunted by the ghost of someone she barely even had the chance to know. 

At least flowers tend to come back, blossoming anew with the change of the seasons. People don’t have that luxury. 

Or at least— they  _ shouldn't.  _

Now the ghost is in Mystacor’s grand dining hall with Casta, steeping a teabag in his Number #1 King mug he had been delighted to learn Angella kept this entire time, which has accordingly become the only mug he ever uses. And he effortlessly catches Glimmer in a hug that briefly pulls her off her feet, solid and warm and  _ undeniably _ real; less like a ghost and more like a dad.

Life in general, Glimmer’s come to learn the hard way, is incredibly fragile. The world shifts and her world shifts with it; everything she takes for granted can be snatched from under her in the blink of an eye, for better or for worse. Even her dad's return, a miracle  _ beyond _ miracles, has been...a  _ lot  _ to take in. 

As Casta tends to her daytime duties, father and daughter drink their tea in the shade of the veranda. The Enchanted Castle's inner courtyard opens out before them, a tranquil garden where a rainbow myriad of flowers outstretch their petals in full bloom under the clear summer sky, like tiny birds extending their wings to the heavens. Glimmer enjoys the minutes of amicable silence, the humming of insects, the chatter of birds, the gentle trickle of the centrepiece fountain, before she picks up on a mood shift that draws her out of the moment. 

"Dad?" she starts, looking back at him in concern, “Are you…?”

Her dad didn't look as he did in the portal dimension when Glimmer first saw him, but all that time on Beast Island is bound to do that to a person. Over a year of Casta's cooking and meticulous beard maintenance have restored his appearance to something more resembling the great sorcerer who caught the angelic queen's heart, though it's not as if anything the Horde could do to him would have ever doused the spark that Glimmer feels must have truly ignited the flame. It burns in his eyes to this day— that raw, gallant determination to improve the world around him, to pursue justice and protect all he cherishes at whatever cost. 

Only very occasionally does she see it falter, flickering with what he must have seen, what he must still see behind his lids. 

Or sometimes, like now, it’s when he’s looking at Glimmer, and his expression softens over in a kind of solemn fondness; saying more than either can stand to put into words. 

"You know," he says instead, and Glimmer's eyes follow where his arm motions out over the garden, "this very courtyard is where I first fell for your mother." 

Glimmer feels like he's told her this in passing, among his many little anecdotes that she treasures like diamonds, but now she actually has time for the full story

She's been unfortunate enough to witness how both her parents mourn for each other, and that alone drives home how different her mom and dad really were. Where her mom was forever trying to break through the surface of her regrets, her dad stayed afloat in his years of isolation with nothing but his memories, even more so now his hopes of seeing his wife again have dwindled to a faint, waning prayer for a miracle. And now, when he recounts them to Glimmer, it's like he's extending a lifeline, an assurance that someone shares her grief— her resolve to keep her mother's memory alive. 

Taking another sip of her tea, she nods to him to continue. 

"Of course, the first time I met your mother was on my initial diplomatic visit to Bright Moon. It was still my first year as Head Sorcerer, and already I was set on using my platform to improve the image of sorcery and utilise what our magic could bring to the world. I thought myself quite an innovator, I suppose. My ideas didn't always go down well with the rest of the Guild, but you know those high-strung geezers, they can barely agree with each other on anything that would lead to actual change. I knew establishing formal ties with Bright Moon would be a true catalyst in bringing Mystacor into the global sphere. Our greatest step in breaking those isolationist barriers and casting the doubts from my opponents' minds once and for all. It's by the grace of moons their very selves that I secured a meeting with none other than the revered Queen herself— I  _ knew _ I couldn't mess this up. I prepared weeks in advance, reading up on every scrap of material available, so when the time came my young, foolish self was  _ sure  _ I knew what to expect, how to conduct myself…"

"Uh-huh…" Glimmer holds in a giggle behind pursed lips; if her dad is anything like her, she has a feeling she knows where this is going. 

"But you see, Glimmer, reading up on an angelic being is rather different from actually  _ meeting _ one." Yep, here it comes. "The second I laid eyes on her **,** _ all _ that preparation, all those hours pouring over countless materials— poof! I was  _ lost _ , barely able to string a sentence together. Eventually I came to my senses, but I must have spent a good and I'm sure very  _ awkward  _ five minutes stuttering, stumbling, and just—  _ gawking _ . It made an amusing story for my very unhelpful entourage to spread around the Guild, at least. Your aunt wouldn't let me hear the end of it when it reached her.

"Now, for whatever unfathomable reason, I received a letter just weeks later from none other than the Queen her very self, requesting to meet with me in Mystacor to solidify our Realms' ties, yadda yadda yadda. She told me later it was an excuse to see me again, and I do  _ want _ to believe her, but— I digress. I gave her the tour, as is the courtesy, and  _ unfortunately _ your mother was just as mind-numbingly ethereal as she was the first time around. You can imagine your old man was sweating like nothing else, stumbling over his lines, and the poor Queen just had to nod along to it all with the patience of...well, an angel. But then, as you know, we reached this courtyard.

"I decided to shut my mouth here. Give her a moment to take it all in, though I thought it lacking compared to what I'd seen of Bright Moon, the  _ wonders _ she must have seen in her own lifetime— I think it was more so to give  _ myself _ a moment to get my bearings. I was a  _ mess _ , Glimmer, I didn't know what had come over me, much less that it had happened  _ twice.  _

"It was a clear summer's day, just like this one. I remember being entranced by the way her wings caught the light, moon and stars, this was  _ Queen Angella _ ! Right here in Mystacor! And here I was, making the  _ biggest _ fool of myself— well, Glimmer, had I not brought myself to meet her eye, right at that moment, who knows how things would have played out.

"You have to understand, these were troubling times. There was mounting pressure on Bright Moon to confront the rising threat of the Horde, which put your mother in a very difficult position between potentially sacrificing her own citizens, or allowing this menace to spread unchecked. I think these few minutes, in the quiet tranquility of the garden were the most at peace she had been in a long time, perhaps even before this fiasco began. I can't do it justice with words, even to this day, but seeing her like that, in harmony with our world, drawing in the simple bliss of this planet's beauty, it was like I had reached out and drawn back the veil of this...out of reach, angelic Queen, so far above us all. I saw a  _ person. _ I…" He smiles wistfully, like he can still see the scene before his very eyes. "I saw Angie." 

"And then you got married," Glimmer finishes for him, nudging him lightly to bring him back to the present, "and then I happened, and here we are." 

"Well," he says, "that took time. But I will tell you, with this insight into Angella's humanity came a fleeting surge of newfound bravery. I decided, there and then, to cast my line before I could change my mind. Do you want to know what I said, Glimmer?" 

From her dad's wicked smile, the raised eyebrow, the same look he wears when he's about to drop one of the abysmal puns he must have been brewing up for the past fifteen years or so, Glimmer has a sneaking suspicion she's about to regret asking. "What did you say?" 

"I asked her if it hurt." 

"If...what hurt?" The answer hits her right as she asks, her eyes widening in mortified realisation. "Oh—  _ no!  _ You  _ didn't! Dad! _ " Her dad's utterly shameless laugh gives her her answer, and she's sure if she hadn't already put her teacup down she would have dropped it. "And she  _ didn't  _ push you into the fountain?"

"It took her a second to catch on, even after I delivered the full line. I was already reconsidering the ethics of mind-wiping spells when I heard that laugh— oh, that  _ laugh _ , Glimmer, I would do Beast Island a thousand times over to hear it one last time." (Come to think of it, Glimmer recalls with a flicker of something that might be remorse, she isn't sure if  _ she _ ever heard her mom laugh) "However you may doubt my charisma, I had certainly broken the ice. It was as if the words just rolled off my tongue after that. You can only go up after hitting rock bottom, after all. We began talking, and turns out, we actually had a lot to talk about." He looks off for a moment, to and beyond the garden, but as he comes back to the present that stupid smile returns. " _ And _ ," he adds, a hint of smugness colouring his tone, "she  _ loved _ my jokes." 

"I mean,  _ somebody _ has to," says Glimmer with an exaggerated eye roll. "But wow, I...guess it  _ did _ work?" 

(Moons and stars above, she can't believe she owes her existence to a line that Seahawk would probably scoff at)

"Well, think about it this way, Glimmer: if I hadn't acted in that moment, had I given myself more time, thought over this  _ rationally _ , who knows, maybe I  _ would _ have thought of something better. Or maybe I would have only held myself back, become so bogged down with figuring out the right thing to say that I wouldn't have said anything at all." (Yup, Glimmer knows what  _ that's _ like) "I've been criticised for being 'impulsive'. I'm sure you know what that's like." (That too) "And sure, perhaps it's not always the best trait in a ruler. I haven't always made the right decisions. But there are times you do need to put your heart before your head, especially in a world so rife with fear and uncertainty, where you have no time to waste overthinking. Seize the day, Glimmer; you never know what tomorrow will bring." 

Glimmer smiles to herself. It's very  _ dad,  _ she thinks, managing to turn any of his stories into a life lesson. Most of them are already lessons she's learned the hard way herself, but the reminder is helpful. It helps her stay on track. 

It isn't that her dad is perfect. In his stories he's been self-admittedly rash, impassioned stubborn, or sometimes, like this one, just plain embarrassing. But none of this has sullied Glimmer's opinion of him; if anything, it's only endeared him further. 

"You know," she says, "the more stories I hear, the more I realise how alike we are." 

"I do see a lot of myself in you, Glimmer." He tilts his head, stroking his beard in mock thought. "If you grew a beard, you would be a spitting image." 

"Yeah, no thanks." She narrows her eyes a little as her dad chuckles to himself, obviously amused at the mental image. "I meant that I'm horrible at speaking to beautiful women too. Can I blame  _ your  _ genes for that?" 

Her dad lets out a scoff of feigned offense, clutching his hand over his heart for extra effect. "Well, it's a good thing you also inherited the naturally irresistible gene, isn't it?" As revenge, she suspects, he gets up specifically to ruffle her meticulously styled hair. "Even the tallest, most magical women can't resist the old sorcerer charm, my dear." Looking to the side, his hand still in Glimmer's hair, he loses himself in thought once more. "I was...surprised to learn the legendary warrior She-Ra was among us. But Adora is a girl as much as any other at the end of the day, isn't she?" He smiles fondly at her, but there's a glint in his eye. "The girl who's dating my daughter."

Glimmer feels her cheeks burn as she swats at his hand.

It is funny though, she thinks, as her mind drifts to the little box buried deep in her bag the guest room she's sharing with Adora, weighing on her constantly, even when it's not physically in her possession— that for someone so notorious for following her gut, her convictions, she has quite a history of putting her head before her heart. She knows now that Adora felt the same way she did, for about as long as she did— how many months of happiness did she deny for herself, for both of them, just trying to think of what to say, whether to say anything at all? 

Well. It's the Summer Solstice tomorrow night. What better day to seize than the longest of the year? 

"Can you keep a secret?" Glimmer asks, and her dad, settled back in his seat, mimes crossing his heart. 

With a releasing exhale, she conjures the box into her hand; before her, she can see her dad's eyes widening.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The case of the Useless Straight Man


	7. Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finally went to therapy!

Sleep doesn't come easily to Glimmer that night. 

It's stiflingly hot in this guest room, and the spell Casta taught her to lower the room temperature only seems to work for a few minutes at a time; drawing the rune over and over quickly became exhausting and tedious, but it at least kept her mind occupied. 

Adora is splayed out next to her, the sheets long since kicked off and entangled around her shins. She  _ looks _ like she's asleep, but Glimmer knows her better than that. 

"Adora?" she nudges her gently, just on the off-chance that she actually  _ is  _ asleep. 

"Hm?" 

"I'm just going for a walk, okay?" Adora lets out a cute little hum of affirmation, and Glimmer leans over to kiss her cheek. "So don't worry if you wake up and I'm not there. I'll be back soon, I promise." 

There was an incident a few months back when Adora woke up from a particularly distressing nightmare to find Glimmer gone. After Glimmer returned from her midnight snack to find a distraught, disheveled She-Ra blearily waving her sword around, they've tried to get into the habit of letting the other know if they leave during the night, even by leaving a little note on the pillow. It's definitely saved Glimmer a few late night panics. 

Adora shifts herself round, sliding her hand into Glimmer's hair and drawing her in for a proper (albeit adorably sleepy) kiss. "I love you," she murmurs. 

"I love you too." 

They rarely leave each other without the reminder. 

She's grateful for the cool morning breeze that hits her as she materialises outside the Hall of Sorcerers; less so for her cruelly coincidental timing, as a hushed voice from inside the hall makes her hairs stand on end. Fight instinct kicks in like an electric surge through her veins, but she has to restrain herself: she can't be the bigger person if she doesn't maintain the truce. 

On Adora's insistence, Mystacor's Midsummer Festival is catering to a few extra guests this year. It was the opposite of a problem for Casta, who always says the more the merrier, especially now that she has her brother to help with the preparations— and to be honest, it wasn't really a problem for Glimmer either. Including the former 'Horde kids' in the festivities? Letting them experience the side of Etheria that's been closed off to them all their lives? It makes  _ sense _ , it's actually a really nice idea. 

Only complicated by the matter of...well...

"Oh, you have  _ got  _ to be kidding me." 

_ Yeah, my thoughts exactly, Catra.  _

She bites back the snarky remark as she quickly swoops behind a pillar, resolving to wait and see how long it takes before she's noticed. It's not that Glimmer is  _ usually _ an advocate for unnecessary eavesdropping— it's just that where Catra is concerned, she doesn't really care.

"Uh-huh. Mmhm." And there's Scorpia, tutting disapprovingly. "I agree, the upkeep here is  _ shocking _ , isn't it? Why's this statue so  _ dirty? _ It's not even lit up the others! What, did they, uh, run out of magic light bulbs? Like, come on, what did…" She hears the light scrape of chitin against ceramic as Scorpia presumably attempts to wipe the dust from the plaque. " _ Light Spinner _ ever do to anyone? Asides from having a  _ really _ dumb name, wow. I mean, it's not as bad as  _ Castaspella _ , or, like, Tung-Lashor— remember that guy? Ha, good times— b-but, uh…" 

Scorpia trails off, obviously noting the resounding silence from Catra, which is followed by a long, tired sigh. "Scorpia." 

"Catra." 

"Please never change."

" _ Aw _ , Catra…" Glimmer bites her lip to retain her own silence, picturing Scorpia's shifting expression as she slowly, but very surely, connects the dots. "W-wait— hold on,  _ what _ ?!"

"There it is." 

"Sh-Shad…Shadow—..." 

"Uh-huh…"

"Shadow Weaver had a  _ sister?! _ "

Glimmer splutters, clamping her hand over her mouth a split second too late. She hears Catra emit an especially catlike noise of surprise, as Scorpia gasps in terror. 

"Is that—" 

"Scorpia." 

"Is that a ghost?" 

" _ Scorpia _ ." 

Scorpia's voice drops to a terrified squeak. " _ Light Spinner? _ "

" _ Scorpia! _ Look!" 

Catra motions to Glimmer as she climbs in through the half-walled archway. Scorpia's features visibly soften in relief, though she does automatically recoil from the statue like she's been caught doing something wrong. "Oh! Hey, Glimmer! We were just, uh, you know, taking a midnight stroll. Totally innocent, not at all  _ suspicious _ or  _ Horde-y… _ "

As little as Glimmer wanted to see these two of all people (or Catra, anyway, it's kind of hard not to adore Scorpia), she's admittedly a  _ tiny _ bit endeared to see the two clinging to each other, Catra for once not springing away like she's been singed the second someone catches her in a moment of vulnerability. She does pull back, but leaves a comforting hand on Scorpia's arm which seems to qualm her rambling— along with (most of) Glimmer's urge to snap at her.

"I know, Scorpia. It's okay." She gives Scorpia a smile, which fades as she nods stiffly at Catra. "Catra." 

Catra nods back. "Sparkles." 

Glimmer's jaw clenches, but she tries not to show her annoyance. They've  _ talked _ about this. If the stupid nickname wasn't funny the first, forth, fifth,  _ tenth _ time—

Okay, yup, that's enough civility to last her an entire month. She's about to say her goodbyes to Scorpia and teleport out of here— but that's when she catches Catra's eyes flickering to the statue. They linger there just a little too long, just long enough for a faint crack form over her aloof composure, and it's that...that which does...something. Something Glimmer  _ really _ doesn't like.

It's not pity she feels, exactly. Nothing condescending like that. But it does cause her to linger, mull over anything remotely comforting she could possibly have to say.

"Catra," she attempts fruitlessly, "you know it's okay to—" 

Catra shoots her a look that shuts her up. 

Scorpia opens her mouth to say something, but then Catra cuts in.

"Yeah, can we just go?" she asks Scorpia, a tinge of desperation undercutting her snappy tone. "You might actually be onto something with the whole ghost thing, this place is giving me the  _ creeps. _ " 

_ Probably because it's a room full of dead people, _ Glimmer thinks, but it wouldn't be tactful to say it outloud. She lets her own eyes fall to the floor, following the slants of languid light spilling in through the archways to the sky outside, where the glint of the stars is already fading behind the rousing Solstice. 

"Have you guys been to the beach yet?" she finds herself asking, "it's the best view of the sunrise in all of Etheria, or at least I think so. We'll get there in time if I teleport us." 

Catra looks as surprised as she is. 

She knows that the main two beaches will be crowded by now; the dawn of the Summer Solstice is the one time of year Mystacorians will be found awake this early. The much smaller private beach, though, the one where she took Bow and Adora the first time Adora came to Mystacor— is, as she expected, deserted. She sits down on the coolness of the bare sand, Scorpia settling next to her, Catra next to Scorpia. Before them, the sun begins its steady ascent above the rosy pink clouds, streaking the sky in brilliant hues that tinge the world in rose gold. 

It's a sight that never gets old. 

Every so often, when she's sure they aren't looking, she steals a glimpse at the other two, each time seeing Scorpia's claw inched just a little closer to Catra. Finally, she looks again to see Catra's hand over the claw, and the sunrise has found itself a worthy rival in the pink glow warming Scorpia's cheeks. 

She smiles to herself, leaning back and turning her face back towards the sky, enjoying the departing breaths of the early morning breeze before it's stifled by the summer heat. She's amazingly at peace. More so than she's  _ ever _ been in Catra's presence. The silence between the three of them now is a comfortable one, so comfortable she wouldn't mind falling asleep like this. 

Okay, yeah, she's glad she's experiencing this with them. Even over Adora. 

She'll watch the sunset with Adora, anyway. She knows this because that's when she's going to propose. She has it all planned out. 

Her smile wavers. 

Yeah. Maybe she should…

Oh boy, this should be fun. 

"Hey, Catra?" 

"What?" 

"I'm gonna tell you something. And I'm only telling you because I think you deserve a heads up,  _ and _ because I  _ think _ I can trust you at this point to take it like a normal person and not pull anything stupid.  _ Can  _ I trust you, Catra?" 

"No offense, Glitter, but I  _ really  _ don't care about you enough as a person to jeopardise your plans or whatever." Catra, still watching the sky, shrugs her shoulders. "Fire away." 

"Well, you know me and Adora?" 

Catra sighs deeply. " _ Yes _ , I'm familiar with you both."

"That we're—" 

"You're  _ dating _ , yes." Catra  _ rolls  _ her eyes. "You're  _ madly  _ in love, two halves of a whole, a couple of gooey-eyed lovebirds screaming your melody for the world to hear. I  _ know _ , Shimmer; believe me, I  _ know _ ." 

Glimmer's eyes narrow. Is Catra  _ really _ in any position to be bitter over this? She  _ had _ her chance,  _ she  _ was the one who irreparably severed it. But whatever. She's allowed to feel things. Glimmer keeps her voice steady as she continues. "Yes, we're in love. I'm actually going to ask her to marry me tonight." 

Oh, and  _ suddenly  _ Catra cares. She jolts fully upright, swerving round to Glimmer with eyes like duochrome saucers. "You're going to  _ WHAT?! _ " 

"Ooh, my moms were married!" Scorpia, who's shuffled back a little to give the two space, excitedly interjects. "It's when you—" 

"I  _ know _ what marriage is, Scorpia," snaps Catra, still looking at Glimmer like she just confessed to murdering a litter of kittens. 

"Oh my  _ gosh! _ " Scorpia turns to Glimmer as the news suddenly registers with her too. Her eyes are shimmering; her voice small and high, strangled with emotion. "You and Adora are getting  _ married _ ?" 

"We don't  _ know _ that," says Catra, "she might say no."

"I wouldn't be doing this if I had any doubts she wanted it too," says Glimmer, calmly. "Look, Catra, I know this is...a  _ lot _ , but I thought it was better that you know now than, like, after it happens. And it's happening  _ however  _ you feel, so you're just going to have to deal with it, okay?"

"But…" Catra gestures around wildly, obviously trying to think of any protest that isn't a personal problem, "aren't you two a little  _ young _ ?"

"Aren't I a little young to be Queen? Isn't Adora a little young to carry a world-altering destiny? Aren't  _ you  _ a little young to be second-in-command to a tyrant?" Glimmer locks eyes with Catra and Catra seems to withdraw, swallowing. "I think we're a little  _ beyond _ being held back by our age, don't you?" 

"Well." Catra relents, shifting around, folding her arms over her knees. " _ Congratulations _ . I'm sure you two will have many happy,  _ happy _ years together." 

Scorpia tries to put a claw on Catra's shoulder, but Catra quickly shrugs her off, so she just looks at Glimmer apologetically; Glimmer shakes her head, mouthing  _ sorry  _ herself. 

She almost feels guilty now. Almost like she should apologise to Catra too. Should she have even told her? Should she even be proposing to Adora at all, when there's still so much baggage involved? 

Sighing, she starts to get up. Maybe they can talk later. She doesn't want  _ this _ , of all things, to be yet a source of animosity between them. But in all honesty, what was she  _ actually  _ expecting? Catra knows she can’t be with Adora. She probably doesn’t even want to. But that doesn’t mean she’s ready to see her with anyone else. 

"Wait." 

Glimmer hesitates. 

Catra purses her lips, looking at the sand, like she's reconsidering what she was about to say. "Look, I'm not going to pretend I'm...not...you know, about...this, any of this. But I get it, that's my own responsibility to work on. I know it's not going to change anything. I don’t want it to."

_ Well,  _ someone's _ been listening in therapy. _

Which is probably something Glimmer should encourage. Tentatively, she lowers herself back to the sand. Catra looks like she's going to close herself back off there and then, until Scorpia gives her a gentle nudge, smiling at her encouragingly.  _ Go on _ , she mouths.

"...And for what it's worth," Catra continues, with obvious reluctance, "if Adora's gonna end up with someone else, I'm...really...glad it's you, Glimmer. I mean that. You both deserve happiness and I can’t ignore how much of that you’ve found that in each other. I’m not ready to be that person for anyone yet."

Glimmer swallows. She isn't sure if it's the words, or the fact that Catra used her actual name, that renders her choked up and tongue-tied. "Thank you," is all she manages to get out. "I..appreciate it."

Meanwhile, Scorpia's eyes dart between the two expectedly. Catra, who would probably try to play off her reddened cheeks as sunburn if Glimmer decided to ruin the moment by pointing them out, raises her brow at her. "What do you want us to do?  _ Hug _ ?" 

"Well…" Scorpia looks to the side, clicking her two claws together bashfully. "You don't  _ have _ to, but it  _ would  _ be really nice if you…" 

" _ Urgh _ ," Catra throws her head back in exaggerated disgust, extending her arm to Glimmer, "come here, you." 

It's with surprising ease and an even more surprising lack of awkwardness that Glimmer leans into the hug, sliding her arms around Catra in turn. Catra even pats her back. Scorpia, clearly unable to hold herself back, throws her arms around them both, scooping them both up into one of her widely renowned Scorpia Hugs. 

"Oh, you  _ guys! _ " she croons, "look at us! Me and two of my best friends, just three of a kind! Three peas in a pod.”

"I wouldn't go  _ that _ far," a slightly squashed Catra grumbles. 

"Neither would I," says Glimmer, smiling to Scorpia and then to Catra, who returns it wryly. "But I think we're getting somewhere."


	8. Dance with the Enemy

"Can I have some of that?" 

Bow hands Glimmer his water bottle as she flops down on the grass next to him, and she gratefully takes a  _ long _ drink. It's just tap water, lukewarm from the heat, but for her parched throat it may as well be the finest elixir. 

"Remember hydration is always more important than making a point," says Bow, shaking his head in teasing disapproval. 

"I  _ know _ , Bow," Glimmer sighs, "you only remind me every Midsummer." 

A few Solstices ago, Glimmer had continued to partake in the traditional dance around the Magica Tree even as her head throbbed and black spots formed over her vision. She can't remember what 'point' she was trying to make, exactly, or really much else other than waking up in Mystacor's infirmary, but neither Bow nor Casta have let her hear the end of it since. 

In fairness, it is only recently that she's become better at respecting her own limits, the half of her that's still human no matter how far her power and her stubbornness convince her she can push herself. Between the heat, her lack of sleep, and the amount of energy involved in Mystacorian dancing, she figures it's time for a break— at least until her head stops spinning.

"Maybe you should save the life lessons for your new kid," she adds, nodding to the little kid sitting cross-legged before him. They're playing a game on Bow's tablet as Bow twists flowers into their coily hair; they seem too engrossed in what they're doing to even acknowledge Glimmer's presence, which is honestly more of a relief than anything. The magical, sparkly Queen of Bright Moon tends to be something of a novelty to little kids, and she hates feeling like she's letting her miniature fans down by having no  _ idea _ how to interact with them.

"Stella here already knows that, don't you?" 'Stella' responds with a smug  _ mmmhm _ , and Bow gives Glimmer a little smirk.  _ See, this six-year-old is better at self-care than you.  _ "How have you been, anyway? I haven't seen you since breakfast." 

"Busy." Glimmer shrugs, shielding her eyes from the sun as she squints to find Adora among the dancers. " _ Really  _ tired."

Mystacorian dancing, while there is a method to it, is a lot...looser, Glimmer would say, more carefree than the Bright Moon ballroom dancing she's been trained in. It doesn't even  _ need _ training, really; anyone who joins in seems to easily fall into step. Watching the circle now, outsiders and locals alike moving along with the same blithe rhythm, the same jovial energy, she's sure that if she didn't already know who they were, she wouldn't even be able to tell the former 'Horde kids' apart from the rest.

She still can't see Adora, but there's a  _ lot  _ of people here. But as long as the sun is high in the sky, the plan can still come to fruition. 

It's going to be perfect. 

"I did have a nice conversation with Catra this morning, though," she adds very casually, turning her head back to Bow to watch his reaction. 

He doesn't disappoint, spluttering and almost choking on nothing. Glimmer offers the water, but he doesn't seem to notice it. "You  _ what _ ?" 

"You heard me."

"What did you  _ talk _ about?!" 

" _ Oh _ ," Glimmer shrugs, holding in a laugh, "nothing much, we were just talking about Adora." 

"—I  _ knew _ it!" Glimmer draws back at Bow's conviction, blinking in confusion. "I  _ knew _ something was off with reality when I couldn't find my other sock this morning! Now I'm wearing odd socks, you and Catra are displaying  _ emotional maturity  _ towards  _ each other _ — what kind of crazy portal dimension is this?!"

Oh, she is having  _ way  _ too much fun with this. "Yeah, it's wild." She leans in, lowering her voice. "And you know, she actually took it  _ reeeally  _ well when I told her I'm proposing to Adora tonight." 

" _ Oww _ !" 

"Shoot, sorry Stella." Bow lets go of the braid he accidentally yanked, grabbing Glimmer's arm, his other hand flailing uselessly as he struggles to pull together a coherent sentence. "Y-you're— you're going to—" 

"Yup!" Glimmer beams.

"Tonight?" 

"Yes."

" _ Tonight _ tonight?" 

"Yes, Bow." 

"At sunset?" 

"How did you know?" 

" _ Here _ ?" 

"Well, not  _ here _ here, but yes." 

" _ Tonight _ ?" 

" _ Yes _ !"

"What's 'perpose'?" Stella chimes in, big brown eyes flickering to Glimmer with mild interest. 

"It's when you ask someone to marry you," Glimmer answers, shrinking back ever so slightly. She somehow feels like she's being scrutinised under the weight of this kid's gaze.

"You're going to ask Adora to marry you?" 

"I am." 

"So will she be king?" 

"She can call herself king if she wants." 

"So where will she hide?"

"Hide from what?"

"The revolution. My mom says kings and queens will be the first against the wall." Oblivious to Bow and Glimmer's bewilderment, Stella goes back to their game, but not before tapping the side of their head impatiently. "Bow, my hair." 

Bow dutifully goes back to braiding Stella's hair, picking up one of the flowers by his side to weave the stem into the curls. His head is bowed, lips pursed, and it almost looks like  _ he  _ wishes he had long hair right now so he could hide himself behind it. 

Almost like... _ he's  _ trying not to laugh. 

Ouch, there's one way to unearth that lingering uncertainty, closing in like a wrench around her heart.

"Bow?" Panic clenches Glimmer's voice. "Bow? What's funny? Why are you laughing?" 

"Laughing? Who's laughing? I'm not laughing." He finishes the braid and looks at Glimmer, his face falling in remorse when he sees her expression. "Oh, Glimmer, no." He shuffles over, putting his arm around her. "I'm  _ really _ happy for you, both of you. It's just...it's big news, you know? My two best friends are getting  _ married! _ "

"Don't speak too soon." Glimmer mutters, refusing to meet his eye. "She might say no." 

"Yeah, I…" Bow pauses, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. "I  _ really _ doubt that." 

"You sound very sure." 

"I  _ am  _ very sure." 

Glimmer shrugs his arm away, but he puts his hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he says, "you've got this." 

"Thanks." She smiles wanely, trying to swallow down her doubt. 

From the corner of her eye, she can see Stella admiring Bow's work in the reflection of the blank tablet screen. With an approving nod they stand up, tugging at Bow's hand. "Dance with me," they say; it doesn't sound like a request. 

"Oh, uh—" he looks at Glimmer, and Glimmer smiles and waves him off. "Uh, let me know how it goes, okay? I believe in you!" He gets up, slipping the tablet back into his satchel, and lets the budding revolutionary drag him to the dance, flashing Glimmer a quick thumbs up as he goes. 

Watching them, she supposes it's kind of sweet, even if part of her is wondering whether to put Stella's mom on some kind of watchlist. Bow's always been really good with kids, and she remembers him mentioning in passing that he'd always wanted a little sibling growing up. Maybe he could babysit if she and Adora ever— 

Okay, slow down. One thing at a time, Glimmer. 

She takes a deep breath and gets up. Bow's right, she's got this. Maybe it would help to dance off some of this nervous energy. 

It's easier to join this dance in twos, so she scans the surrounding area, trying to pick out someone she recognises. Of course, of  _ course _ , the first person she sees just  _ has  _ to be Catra, who meets her eye and quickly looks away, like she's trying to pretend she didn't see her.

" _ Urgh _ ." She marches over, taking Catra's arm. "Come on." 

Catra, like most people, gets the gist after Glimmer guides her through the initial few steps. "You're going to die in that suit, you know," she tells her, looping her arm through hers, and Catra joins her in skipping round in a circle; obviously, she makes sure Glimmer sees her pulling a face, just so Glimmer knows how dumb and embarrassing she finds all of this. 

"It's the only formal thing I have," says Catra as they face each other, joining hands. Glimmer springs from her left foot to her right, Catra vice versa; Catra is panting already. 

"You know you could have talked to Casta," says Glimmer, "she would have hooked you up." 

"Yeah, well, I don't associate with sorcerers." 

"Well I've got some bad news about literally everyone in Mystacor." 

Catra scoffs, bending awkwardly so Glimmer can guide her into a twirl. She's starting to wonder if she should have let Catra lead, but her pride just wouldn't allow it. "So have you asked her yet?" Catra asks her.

"I haven't seen her yet." They join again in allemande. "And I'm leaving it til sundown, anyway." 

"Of course you are." Catra rolls her eyes. They continue their conversation as they take a few steps forward, then turn on the spot with raised arms to take another four back. "I think I saw her talking to the sorceress earlier, actually. Don't know where she went since then." 

"Cool, thanks for narrowing it down to like, half of Mystacor," says Glimmer, though she knows she means Casta. It might not even be Catra's anti-sorcerer grudge, she knows it sometimes takes a while for people to say Casta's whole name with a straight face. 

"You  _ know _ ." Catra lowers her voice, a weird kind of jovial malice coiling around her words that makes Glimmer narrow her eyes. "Scorpia and I have actually been talking about going official. I didn't think I was ready, but  _ now _ I'm wondering if I should go one step further and propose,  _ just  _ to steal your thunder." 

"To rephrase what I said earlier," says Glimmer, twirling her onto the next partner, "I  _ hope  _ you die in that suit." 

Double Trouble, of all people, joins hands with her next. Dressed to the nines in far more weather-appropriate garb, they already have the moves down. 

" _ So _ ," they drawl, in a tone that immediately tells her they were privy to  _ everything _ , everything Glimmer has ever thought and said, with those stupid big ears, "are those wedding bells I hear in the horizon?" 

"Possibly," Glimmer says, sharply motioning for them to shush, "and a little louder, please, I don't think  _ Eternia _ quite heard you." 

Thankfully, they do lower their voice. "I'll be maid of honour. Consider it payment for my  _ services _ ." 

"What ser—" 

"—Ooo!" their eyes light up. " _ Actually _ , how about I officiate the wedding? I am  _ ordained _ , you know." 

Glimmer squints, trying to discern whether they're joking. "I didn't even realise you were religious." 

"There's a  _ lot  _ you don't know about me, sugarplum." 

"Can you, like…" 

"Oh, of  _ course _ , my  _ Queen _ ." The very tall shifter lowers themselves  _ way _ lower than they have to so Glimmer can twirl them. "Anyway, I've been meaning to ask— that creepy statue...?" 

"Yes." She's answered this question for a few people already. "It's her."

" _ Oof _ ." Double Trouble pulls a face. "Old witch let herself  _ go _ , didn't she? If I were her I would have kicked the bucket  _ long  _ ago." They clicked their tongue. " _ Tragic _ what happened to her, though. Truly. I've been positively  _ beside _ myself." They even pull back a hand so they can wipe a nonexistent tear. 

"Yeah, okay, I'll see you later." She hastens to twirl them away, and it's as she's joined with Lonnie that the music stops and the caller announces the name of the next dance. 

"I'm gonna go find Adora," she tells her. 

"She  _ was _ here, I danced with her like five minutes ago," says Lonnie, craning her neck to see over the bustling crowd, all looking for their own friends, partners, adopted siblings, whatever. "You go find her, I'm gonna look for Rogelio."

They split, and the dancers begin to take hands, forming two large circles around the sacred tree. It's as Glimmer is considering teleporting to any old place and just hoping Adora happens to be there that she collides right into her. 

"There you are!" they both declare at the same time, and they mutually throw their arms around each other like they haven't seen each other in months rather than hours, giggling like the two dummies they are. Glimmer buries her face into her shoulder, inhaling her scent, feeling her heartbeat— and she feels so unbelievably, so  _ disgustingly  _ gushy, like she's falling in love all over again. 

They draw back, and Glimmer takes a proper look at her. Unlike Catra she must have spoken to Casta, even though her usual red dress would have worked just fine. Not that Glimmer's complaining, the Mystacorian look works well for her— but then again, what doesn't? 

Her hair is in a half-updo, and she twirls one of the loose strands self-consciously. "Yeah, I, um, asked Casta to help me with my hair, then one thing just led to the next, and…" She motions over her robes. "This happened. How do I look?" 

Glimmer cups her face, bringing herself in to lean their foreheads together. "You look magical," she murmurs. It's so corny that they both end up in another fit of giggles. 

It's the first time she's seen Adora in makeup. She's as pretty with as she is without, although that lipgloss isn't going to last very long if tonight goes as planned. Glimmer is about to go in for the first sabotage, having already forgotten her surroundings entirely, when the caller's voice cuts through their lovey-dovey bubble. 

"You two!" She bellows. Glimmer recognises her as a teacher, one she learned  _ plenty _ about from the Mystacorian kids Casta used to force her to hang out with before she had Bow. Suffice to say, she's not exactly among one of the more well-liked teachers; they probably picked her for this because she has the loudest voice in the universe. "Join the  _ circle _ or take it  _ elsewhere _ , you're holding everyone up." 

"Do you wanna bounce?" Glimmer asks Adora, taking her hand. 

"Please," Adora near-whispers, her cheeks reddening as her eyes flicker around the onlookers.

Let the plan commence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vaguely described dance is loosely based on a traditional Scottish dance (actually called the Gay Gordons), because that's the only type of dancing I know about. Finally that secondary school trauma comes in handy!
> 
> I don't know what I was thinking with Stella, I guess I just thought Bow babysitting would be cute


	9. What Can Go Wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading from my phone since I'm at my family's without a laptop, sorry in advance for any formatting mistakes

With a hasty, poorly-planned teleport, they end up in the Crimson Waste. They wave to a very bewildered Huntara (who'd decided to give the whole Midsummer Festival thing a miss), then Glimmer tries again and lands them in the Lunarium. 

"Well," she says, shrugging to Adora with a bashful smile, "it's Mystacor." 

Adora light-heartedly rolls her eyes; for the length of time Glimmer's had to refine her enhanced teleportation abilities, she probably has experienced this  _ way  _ too many times. "It sure is."

"Hey, at least we got to see Huntara," Glimmer retorts, noticing her voice drop. Adora notices too and glances around, like she's trying to see if there's something, someone, they've disturbed with their sudden entrance. But the place is empty. Empty and completely, emphatically quiet. 

Wordlessly, she grasps Glimmer's hand. 

Their tentative footsteps echo almost eerily, almost too loudly, in the stark silence. Glimmer can't help but be reminded of those long gone nights of sneaking out on limited magic, where even the sound of her own breathing would deepen the impending dread of being caught. The feeling is underlying, impeded with the relief for a break from the consistently pretty  _ loud  _ and overwhelming day, but she can't help but get that sense that maybe,  _ maybe _ , they shouldn't be here.

Maybe, she tries to assure herself, it's just that no one outside of the Guild really comes in here during the day. Not unless there's a ceremony, and especially not during festivals. Maybe she's just not used to it being this quiet. Or maybe, maybe, she's just wired up in general. Every second that goes by, after all, brings her closer to the inevitable moment of truth, the answer to whether Adora is at the same stage of commitment she is or if she needs to change her name, dye her hair and move to Eternia; it's all the more real now Adora's actually here. 

She breathes out, trying to calm herself. 

They both sit down on the steps descending from the Pool of Vision. Under the dome, under the skylight there to invite the moons' blessings, the Sacred Texts capture the golden sunlight like stained glass, filtering it through in a shimmering watercolour of azure and lilac; across the walls, the floor tiles, the plains of Adora's features. Under the dome, Adora really does look magical. 

Glimmer leans back, letting the stress roll off her shoulders. It's peaceful here, that's all it is, and she's going to relish in that while it lasts. It's going to be okay. It's going to be  _ perfect _ . 

"So, is she  _ allowed _ to talk to you like that?" Adora asks her, referring back to the teacher. 

Glimmer shrugs again. "I don't think she would care if I was the Moon Goddess herself, Mistress Selene does what she wants." She smiles at her girlfriend, her potential fiancée, placing a hand over hers. But Adora doesn't seem to respond. Glimmer follows her wandering gaze to the Pool. Back to her memories. 

She can't follow her there, but she knows the gist.

"She might have actually taught Shadow Weaver when  _ she _ was a kid, you know." She adds, trying to coax her back to the present without moving away from the subject entirely. " _ That's _ how long she's been doing this." 

Adora leans her head on Glimmer's shoulder, Glimmer instinctively putting her arm around her. She's starting to regret mentioning the name now. Not everyone grieves the same way she does. Not everyone  _ can _ . 

Still…

"It helps to talk," she encourages gently, stroking her arm. 

"Yeah. I know." Adora sighs. "I just can't figure out how to feel about the whole thing.  _ Should _ I mourn? Should I celebrate? Should I be  _ angry _ ?" 

"No one's gonna blame you for any of those reactions, Adora." She kisses her cheek. "I know it's difficult, I know. I'm sorry." 

"And  _ now _ I'm picturing what she was like as a  _ kid _ ." Adora shivers. "You know I've never even  _ considered  _ that? I don't know, I guess was always hard seeing her as...like, a  _ person _ ." She inhales, sniffing, quickly wiping her eyes with her arm. "Yeah, no, I don't...I can't— not now. Not now. I know I'm  _ supposed _ to, but…"

"Hey, no, it's okay." Glimmer soothes, squeezing her quivering shoulders assuringly, "Whenever you're ready I'm right here, okay? I'm right here." 

"Thank you." She exhales, squaring her shoulders, and turns her head to Glimmer with a smile that's not fully forced, but not fully genuine either. It probably would have fooled anyone else, but this is neither the time nor the place to try and push any further. "Actually, I was talking to some of the locals earlier about, you know, Mystacor stuff.  _ Apparently _ , kids here have this legend that if you say Light Spinner three times into a mirror, she'll materialise and steal your magic." 

"Oh  _ no _ ," Glimmer groans, more childhood memories from Mystacor resurfacing. "A few kids tried to do that at a sleepover Casta made me go to, I was seriously  _ petrified _ . I don't know if I was more scared about losing my magic or how I was going to explain that to my  _ mom _ ."

"I'm gonna guess it didn't work?" 

"No. I was weirdly disappointed, actually. I guess I couldn't help but be a  _ little _ morbidly curious." 

"We had legends like that in the Horde, too, but they were always about princesses.  _ Fictional _ princesses...I think. I remember one time Octavia was trying to, like, piggyback on Shadow Weaver's spookiness to keep me and Catra out of her room— which was always locked anyway, by the way. She told us it was haunted by the Headless Princess, 'cause  _ she _ personally beheaded her, apparently. You can probably guess what me and Catra spent every free moment of the next two weeks trying to do. We wouldn't have even  _ cared _ about her stupid room otherwise." She rolls her eyes, then pauses, her gaze dipping to the floor. Melancholy clouds over her features, just for a moment, one very telling moment. Lately Catra's presence, the cold awkward civility that characterises their post-truce interactions, just seems to serve as a constant reminder of that seemingly unbreakable childhood bond that's been scratched and torn and severed beyond any hope of repair. But then she blinks, and before Glimmer can say anything, the moment is gone. "Huh, it didn't take long for Light Spinner to reach cryptid status, did it? I mean, people who knew her are still alive, she  _ was _ …I mean, sort of." She squints. " _ Huh _ , I wonder if the same is going to happen to She-Ra." 

"Maybe she can give back the power Light Spinner stole." She leans in to kiss Adora, letting it linger. She's here for her, she's trying to convey; they don't have to talk about it now, but she's here. "I guess kids are gonna be kids wherever you go. The second you tell them something scary and terrible is going to happen if they do something, there's gonna be those ones who make it, like, their  _ prerogative _ ." 

"Well." Adora kisses her back, and then kisses her again, smiling teasingly against her lips. "I think  _ you  _ of all people know that doesn't  _ just  _ apply to kids." 

Glimmer  _ sighs.  _ Deeply. Dramatically. Very audibly. She can't even say anything, she basically teleported right into that one. 

"Sorry," Adora adds hastily. Glimmer pokes her nose, grinning. 

She wants to  _ really  _ kiss her, deeply, properly, now they actually have some alone time. Her hands itch to touch her, hold her, feel her. She needs to close any space between them, in any way she can. But as she leans in again, something feels...off. 

Adora also seems hesitant all of a sudden. She wonders if it's for the same reason. 

"So, uh, did you…" Adora's eyes flit around, and she swallows. "Ever read that one  _ Mer-mysteries _ book…"

"The one with the sea-rial killer?" Glimmer asks, her voice very small, and Adora nods briskly. The sea-rial killer, as it turns out, was actually a ghost who was still  _ really _ hung up over losing her lover, and took her heartbreak out on young couples she found messing around in secluded places; the author had made the controversial decision to take a supernatural angle with this particular plot twist, much to Mermista's outrage. 

"I know it isn't real," says Adora, "but...people  _ have  _ died in here, haven't they?" 

Glimmer finds herself swallowing too. There really  _ is  _ an unsettling presence making itself known. Sure, the sea-rial killer isn't real, but the Goast (Goat Ghost) might be. 

"Yeah," Glimmer says, getting up. "Let's go, it's getting  _ really  _ cold in here." 

Evening is rearing by the time they're outside. They ended up running, as if they just forgot that Glimmer can teleport, and there's not yet any hint of an evening breeze to provide relief from the exertion or the persisting heat. 

But they're laughing. They're arm-in-arm, stumbling onto the grass, nearly pulling each other right over like a couple of drunken idiots. Adora's flower crown slips and Glimmer reaches up to fix it, taking the opportunity to kiss her forehead.

"Like a queen," she says.

It's often the moments like these she wishes she could preserve somehow, capture a snapshot of the laughter and the sunshine and how it feels to see Adora smile like and keep it with her forever. There will be many more to come, she knows that rationally, but it's so hard not to feel like she's living on borrowed time.

That, she resolves, as Adora slides her fingers into her hair, looking at her like she's watching the dawn in her eyes— is what makes it all the more important that she follows the plan through tonight. 

( _ Seize the day _ , her dad's words echo,  _ you never know what tomorrow will bring _ .)

Using the word 'plan', in fairness, makes the whole thing seem a lot more structured than it actually is. She didn't waste time writing out some grand speech, conjuring up some exorbitant declaration of her love that she hopes she shows on the daily anyway. All she has to do is take her to a certain place, wait til a certain time, say a few lines that she's been intermittently rehearsing in her head all day, then offer the ring, ask the Question. Quick, simple,  _ completely _ Glimmer-proof. It's  _ going _ to be  _ perfect.  _

She looks up at the sky, still brilliantly blue, pink only beginning to tinge the line of the horizon. There's plenty of time. 

"Come on," she says, taking Adora's hand, "I want to show you something." 

"Oh." Adora's eyes flicker upwards too, and Glimmer, with a flicker of anxiety, wonders if she realises something is going on. "Uh, okay." 

As they follow the footpath in an amicable silence, the flicker carries on flickering, like a short circuit in the pit of her belly. She steals the occasional glimpse at Adora's profile, trying to psyche herself up. At one point their eyes meet and she quickly looks away, feeling her face burn. 

What's wrong with her? She wasn't  _ this _ much of a mess even  _ before  _ they were dating! 

"Hey, Glimmer." Adora breaks the silence, nudging her gently. "Guess what." 

"What?" 

"I love you." 

Glimmer holds in a giggle. "Well that's a coincidence." 

"How so?" 

"Because I love you too!" 

Adora feigns a gasp of surprise, which is cut off by her own laughter. "Oh, we have so much in common!"

"If only we were  _ dating _ , right?" 

"If  _ only _ ." 

_ If only we were getting married.  _

Their destination isn't too far now. But Glimmer's getting too antsy now, so she decides to teleport them after all. 

She'd considered the Steam Grotto, but their memory there is tainted. Then she thought about the beach, but Bow's tied to that place too, as well as Catra and Scorpia now, which isn't a  _ bad  _ thing, of course not, but…

She doesn't know why, but she wants this memory to take place somewhere that can be special for her and Adora, and  _ only  _ her and Adora. And for some reason, it was here that came to mind. 

"By the time my mom let me come to Mystacor without her," she said, "I'd already seen all these places, all these wondrous displays of beauty and magic. But this, Adora,  _ this  _ ended up being the biggest novelty in the world to me;  _ this _ was the best thing I'd ever,  _ ever _ , experienced. I mean, I was eight, but…"

It's a swing bench. A damn swing bench. Located in the only part of the garden that's allowed to become overgrown, vines and winding flowers twine their way around the old wood, across the canopy above. She remembers happening upon this place as a child and feeling more accomplished than she ever had in her life, like she'd made the discovery of a lifetime. 

"I never mentioned it to Casta." She continues, beginning to feel a little embarrassed; kind of wanting to backtrack and go to the beach instead. "I never even told Bow when I started bringing him to Mystacor. I wanted this to be  _ my _ place, like a sanctuary, a home just for me. I could come here when I was sad or overwhelmed and needed to be by myself with nature. But now, I...uh, I'm sharing it with you, Adora. It's...it's our place."

They sit down on the age-worn cushion, Glimmer internally cringing, her heart pounding in her ears, thrumming through her veins. Why here? Of course this isn't going to mean the same to Adora as it does to her, it's a stupid  _ bench _ . Why is she like this?

But at Adora's eventual response, she calms a little. A short "oh," followed by an "oh,  _ Glimmer _ "— potently heartfelt, conveying appreciation that can't be properly put into words. 

Okay, she's glad she got the meaning of the gesture across. But that doesn't make her any less nervous; her own words seem to have fizzled to dust. She racks her brain for what she'd planned to say, what she's been rehashing in her mind all  _ day,  _ but while the feelings are there, what she wants to convey is there, it's like she's lost the simple ability to string a sentence together. 

She looks at their hands, their interlaced fingers. She tries to picture a ring on Adora's finger. She exhales. So does Adora.

"Do you remember," Adora starts, "how different everything was the first time you brought me here?" 

"Mhm," Glimmer affirms dumbly. Okay, more memory talk, good, maybe she'll remember how to be a person. "There— there weren't stars." 

"Uh-huh, but with us, I mean. I...I don't know, were we friends back then? I guess we were, but there was still some...mistrust, I guess, you know? And a sense that we were only together out of necessity, 'cause I was She-Ra and you were leading the Rebellion and...anyway, something changed that day, I think. And it was when we were in the Steam Grotto. I drifted off at some point, woke up, and  _ you  _ were fast asleep with your head on my shoulder. 

"And seeing that, I just felt this...calmness, a certainty that I thought I'd any sense of. In that moment, before— well, you know what happened— I felt like...like I could  _ really _ get used to waking up next to you." 

Glimmer, acting on a sudden urge, brings Adora's hand to her lips, kissing her fingers, her knuckles, her wrist; as her eyes flicker up to Adora's, she can see the blush rising up her cheeks as she goes on.

"It was, um, the moment I– I started developing a crush on you, or at least the moment I realised. And then I did nothing about it for...agh,  _ how _ long was it?" She pauses, and Glimmer has to bite back just outright screaming the Question into the momentary silence. "To be fair, I don't think I really knew what a crush  _ was _ . I mean, I knew  _ what _ it was, like the definition, but not how it, um..." 

As Adora's rambling trails off, the tiny voice of reason lingering in the back of Glimmer's scrambled mind tells her this would be a good starting point. She could reiterate the story of Thaymore, the pink hibiscus, the crush that blossomed and bloomer overtime, agree that they took  _ way  _ too long to confess their mutual feelings for each other and now they're together and it's the best thing that's ever happened to her and she wants to spend the rest of her life with her and she doesn't want to waste any more time. That, the frail remains of her logic tells her, would slide quite seamlessly into the Question. 

It sure would, the rest of her agrees, making no move to pull the fragments of her thoughts together. That's just too bad, isn't it?

Adora continues. Glimmer looks at the sky. The sun's descent is  _ excruciatingly  _ slow this evening. Of  _ course _ she decides to propose at sunset on the longest day of the  _ year _ , doesn't she? 

"I've been kind of a mess over this, I'm not gonna lie. I already talked to Bow this morning. I talked to Casta, only 'cause she overheard me and Bow. I even talked to your dad. Actually, I talked to your dad first. But I was trying  _ really _ hard to keep it a secret, because I wasn't sure if I could even..." Glimmer is listening intently, but she can barely sit still, barely keep her mouth shut. She feels supercharged. Overcharged. Ready to explode. "Even now I have all these doubts, like what if what if what if, but I know, I know I can't waste anymore—" 

" _ Willyoumarryme _ ?" 

Adora blinks. 

Glimmer gasps, clamping her hand over her mouth. 

_ Shit.  _

Shit shit shit— 

No, this isn't happening, she did _not_ just mess this up _this_ badly. This is a nightmare, right? It's got to be, it's _got_ to be...

Adora is silent. 

Glimmer isn't dreaming. 

" _ Shit _ ," she says out loud. 

Adora says nothing. 

Glimmer is shaking. She wishes Adora would say something,  _ do _ something, have  _ some  _ reaction, but her expression is completely indiscernible. 

Then again, indiscernible isn't  _ necessarily  _ bad…? 

Whatever. Even if it is, there's no turning back now. 

She slides off the bench. Gets down on one knee. Adora just gawks.

"Adora," she says, with much more emphasis, much more conviction. She takes Adora's hand. She doesn't have the ring. The ring is in her pocket. She can't remember which pocket. She only has one pocket. "Will you…" 

It's then, and only then, that what's happening seems to dawn over Adora's features. Her eyes widen, her jaw drops, and then…

And then…

She starts to laugh. 

Glimmer kind of wants to die. 

Actually, she  _ really _ wants to die. 

If Horde Prime decided to blow up Etheria this very second she'd welcome the explosion with open arms and tear-streaked cheeks. 

" _ Adora _ ?" her voice is so small, so pathetic, it's almost a squeak. "Say something?  _ Please _ ? Please don't laugh." 

"No, no, Glimmer! I'm sorry, I— I was literally  _ about  _ to—" Adora struggles to speak through her laughter, so she grasps Glimmer's offered hand to stop her from pulling away. With her other hand, she reaches to retrieve something from the pocket of her robe.

Now Glimmer's eyes widen. Her jaw drops. 

Okay, so maybe this isn't a nightmare, but she is  _ definitely  _ dreaming. 

She lifts her eyes to Adora's. Studying her for any hint that this her sleeping imagination run wild, or some really weird and  _ really  _ cruel joke, but all she sees is sincerity. Love. The smile, the smile that dwarves the sun in the sky. 

Glimmer starts to sob. 

Or laugh, she can't really tell. 

She buries her face in her hands, burying a sound she didn't even know she could make. She's just barely aware of calloused fingers, the hands that wielded a sword with such ferocious vigour and handle Glimmer with such reverent tenderness, wrapping around her wrists, the warmth seeping through her skin and into her veins to embrace and soothe her rapidly hammering heart; and gently, Adora prises her hands from her face.

When Glimmer looks up, Adora is down here with her, on her knees in the untamed grass. She's crying too, tears streaming freely down her flushed cheeks; she makes no effort to wipe them away this time. 

Glimmer sniffs, letting out another sound that's somewhere halfway between a sob and a laugh, sliding her fingers through Adora's as they lean in to each other, close enough that their foreheads touch. 

"So," Glimmer eventually says, eyes flickering up to Adora's, "is that a yes?" 

"What— _ yes _ !" Adora has to pull back to splutter with laughter. " _ Yes _ , you dumbface, of course I'll marry you." 

Finally,  _ finally, _ Glimmer pulls herself together enough to locate the little box in her pocket. Taking out the ring, she takes Adora's hand and slides it onto her finger. Adora, picking up the near-identical box she left on the bench in the commotion, does the same for Glimmer in turn. 

"It's beautiful," Glimmer murmurs, admiring the shifting glint of the moonstone as she threads her fingers through Adora's once more. 

"Not as beautiful as you," is Adora's instinctive response. Her ring is sunstone. Not the grandest of jewels, but it captures the light,  _ her _ light, so perfectly— and Glimmer can tell, with a swell of pride, that she loves it as much as she loves hers.

Nevertheless, she pulls her hand away at Adora's corniness, lightly shoving her shoulder. "When are you gonna stop doing that  _ every  _ time I compliment something, Adora?" 

Adora giggles, leaning forward to kiss her. "I don't know. Whenever I get tired of it." 

"When will  _ that  _ be?" 

"I don't know." She pokes Glimmer's nose. "Maybe a week. Maybe a month. Maybe a whole lifetime." 

"Is it too late to take the ring back?" Glimmer jokes, rolling her eyes. 

"Yup." Adora grins. Then something flashes over her. "—Oh! Glimmer!" 

"Oh?" 

" _ Glimmer _ !" 

"What??" 

"We're getting  _ married _ !" 

Glimmer gasps. "We're getting married!" 

They let out a unisient scream, throwing their arms around each other. Adora's fingers clasp at the fabric of Glimmer's dress; fresh tears soak her shoulder. Glimmer's pretty sure she's doing the exact same to her. 

"We're going to have a wedding!" Adora whisper-screams into the crook of Glimmer's neck. "I've never even  _ been _ to a wedding! We need to start planning, we need to— Glimmer, we need to  _ tell _ everyone—!" 

"We do." Glimmer draws back, cupping Adora's face in her hands. Her thumbs caress away the stray tears; her lips leave a kiss on her left cheek, then her right. "But it can wait. They can wait. There's something I need to do first." 

"And what's that?" Adora asks, sounding genuinely confused. 

"I need to hold you." She does. "And kiss you." She does.

"Anything else?" Adora asks teasingly, getting the gist, grinning with a raised brow as her hand reaches to slip her fingers into Glimmer's hair.

"And then," says Glimmer, leaning closer, "I need to kiss you again." She does. 

"And again?"

"And again."

And again, and again, and again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever just feel like killing off Shadow Weaver for literally no reason 
> 
> Anyway! I'm torn because I think this would be a good enough ending point (especially since the last few lines steer the fic back towards the song it ended up having nothing to do with), but I also want to kind of write a wrap-up chapter/epilogue that shows everyone's reactions and more, y'know, nice happy unity/redemption. We'll see what happens 
> 
> Anyway, thanks to everyone who's caught up so far! (And shout-out to XDG_Orii and anyone else who managed to guess exactly what was going to happen)
> 
> UPDATE: Okay yeah I'm ending it here, thank you so much to everyone who got this far! (Especially those of you who've been here since August...rip) 
> 
> I'm going to try and focus on an original project now but I don't think this is going to be my final spop work so keep an eye out— I'm on [tumblr](https://daoimean.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/daoimean) too.


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